


Do Not Go Gentle

by mikachan



Category: Black Butler, Kuroshitsuji
Genre: Ciel suffers from depression, Feelsy, Fluffy smutty goodness, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Sad, SebaCiel - Freeform, Sebastian is a demon as always, and songs, otp, spillingashes, wtf do i put here tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-03-23 09:30:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3763021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikachan/pseuds/mikachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I still want my life.  I'll always remember; do not go gentle.  Do not go gentle into that good night.  I remember the words they said.  Do not blame your wretchedness on the fallen butterflies and bumblebees.  Do not wipe your fears on the foggy window pain, only to awake in the morning with regrets.  I will remember those words they said.</p><p>But you see I have unwittingly spit upon the flowers gowing.  I have drowned in the sea, and I do not wish to be saved.  I do not want pain to heal my wounds because I do not trust in god enough to let them.</p><p>Yet I still pray, I still weep with my hands tied.  I still know that I am unworthy.  I still know that I am in pain, and I love it.  It's keeping me alive... if only for a moment; because in that moment I can feel the blood rushing through me.  In the moment of my suffering I can feel the wind galloping behind my ears... and I am happy.  In my moments of pain, I remember who I am.</p><p> </p><p>Do not go gentle... I love you.</p><p>I love you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first seven chapter's format doesn't have double spacing between paragraphs...but it gets fixed in chapter eight. I hope it's still readable. Something happened with formatting that I can't fix, so bear with me until then. <3 :3

{ Rage, rage against the dying of the light. }  
\- Dylan Thomas  
〰〰〰〰  
I still want my life. I'll always remember; do not go gentle. Do not go gentle into that good night. I remember the words they said. Do not blame your wretchedness on the fallen butterflies and bumblebees. Do not wipe your fears on the foggy window pain, only to awake in the morning with regrets. I will remember those words they said.  
But you see I have unwittingly spit upon the flowers gowing. I have drowned in the sea, and I do not wish to be saved. I do not want pain to heal my wounds because I do not trust in god enough to let them.  
Yet I still pray, I still weep with my hands tied. I still know that I am unworthy. I still know that I am in pain, and I love it. It's keeping me alive... if only for a moment; because in that moment I can feel the blood rushing through me. In the moment of my suffering I can feel the wind galloping behind my ears... and I am happy. In my moments of pain, I remember who I am.  
Just tiny scratch. Just small wound to feel alright again. Oh, how I would wish it could be that easy. If I could only be able to let the voices out... to watch them seep out of me in a drop of crimson I may be able to sleep through the night. If I could only let myself scar again in an attempt to remove the old ones that have been given to me. If only I could be the one to hurt myself instead of them.  
But they will not hurt me any longer. They cannot hurt me any longer. Sebastian will not hurt me; and he will not let me hurt myself. Because of Sebastian I cannot fix myself. Because of this servant I cannot engrain my life into my skin. I want him to make me hurt. I want him to carve the pain of my life into my soul when he consumes it. I should not be afraid of him.  
The sky outside my window is far too bright, and as I scan the cloudless blue with my work-drained eyes I remember what happened a month ago. I remember the feeling of his lips on my skin. I remember how it felt to be loved by him. I called out his name is a flurry of passion and seemingly forgot the next day.  
Yes, I love him... but if he truly loved me too he would never stand up and walk away on my order. He would have at least spoken to me in a different tone... but he cannot. I told him not to. I am the one who told him to forget. I am the one keeping secrets.  
It was foolish of me to ever trust him with my body... my mind... my soul. It is such a childish act to seek comfort in the one who is slated to end your life. It was foolish of me to succumb to such a dastardly thing as human emotion.  
But I suppose this is what humans are, aren't we? We feast upon carcasses only to throw them into the gutter for others to eat, and wonder why the poor are sick. We blame each other for things we encounter as a whole. We despise humanity but we are humanity. I am humanity, and I do not want to be.  
Each and every human I have laid eyes upon has broken promises... they all have been so blind and cruel. Yet this demon... this thing in which we are all taught to evade has become my beacon. He has become my hope and he is all I have. Darkness spills from him... yet without him I am nothing but human. So I must avoid the sunlight.  
I draw my eyes from the light bursting through the glass down back to my work in front of me. This useless work that I endure day after day has become habit; a task I cannot avoid. It has become like my life; a meaningless drought. A habit forming through going through the motions, and now I realize the difference between living and being alive. I have been close to neither... for what other humans have done to me is irreversible.  
"Young master, may I enter?"  
A knock is heard at the door. I rub my temple with my forefinger and sigh, a knot forming in the back of my throat. My lungs constrict as I try to take a deeper breath, but to no avail.  
"You may."  
I respond, my voice shaking more than intended.  
The door opens with a creak, but I avert my gaze from whom enters. Instead, I rest my eyes on the blinding white of the still-blank paper in front of me, clueless as to where my strong train of thoughts have gone.  
"Is there something bothering you, my lord?"  
He asks, as he does everyday. It is customary for a servant like himself to assure his master the greatest of comforts... yet it must be done in the most professional manner possible; a toxic relationship only made worse by our burning contract. I now realize where my mind has gone.  
"Of course not, Sebastian... just writer's block is all."  
Writer's block is not all, and he knows it. I see it in his flaming eyes... those blood-red orbs seem to know all of what they place their stare upon. They always seem to be staring at me.  
"Very well. I shall continue to attend to my duties, then. Is there anything else you need? I came to tell you I have prepared your afternoon tea."  
The sunlight seems to change, then... perhaps the curtains moved, but I can now see the dust floating in the air like tiny etherial beings. The manor is eerily quiet, and as I lift my gaze from the paper in front of me, everything seems to become real... the effect of the silenced light humbling.  
The lump in my throat grows, and I notice that my breath hasn't come any easier since Sebastian's knock at my door.  
"No."  
I say. I want to scream at him that all is not well... I want so desperately to tell him that I am not alright, and that there is so much more I need that my pride would never allow me to ask for. There is so much that I need from him, and him alone, that I simply cannot emote. There is so, so much left unspoken that may never be said... and yet my mind screams at me to not let myself wallow without said pride, and so I usher him away.  
"That is all."  
I tear my gaze away from him once more, and hearing the door click shut behind him summons up a tidal wave of emotion I never knew I had. Through this entire month, I've been fighting against my own free will just to uphold a status I don't even own. Who would listen to a child? Who would look past everything just to see what I have seen? Nobody I know of is uncomfortable enough to understand depth. Nobody is uncomfortable enough to understand that I've been through more in my short life than they may ever go through.  
I can still feel the chains rubbing against my wrists... against my naked chest and thighs. I can still hear their voices and smell their rotten scent. It still all feels so real that I cannot sleep a single wink until someone lights a candle. No... nobody wants to be uncomfortable.  
I mindlessly push papers to the side and lay my head down on the cool wood of the desk. I still feel as if I am being asphyxiated, though I force myself to attempt to breathe evenly. I feel the corners of my eyes sting with the onset of tears, yet I command my features to remain stoic even when my vision begins to blur.  
I remember the words I uttered that night I lay under the covers; my head placed upon Sebastian's bare chest. I had said I loved him... I had said that I trusted him wholly. And even though both statements are completely and utterly true... I remember how foolish it was that I articulated them. Yes, I remember the words I said. I remember the words I never heard back.  
I loathe that I fell asleep that night to a dreamless slumber... a slumber without the nightmares that plague me still. I loathe that he does not come to my aid when I wake up, screaming in fright as he had that night. I loathe with every single fibre of my being how I turned away such an act of charity... and I absolutely loathe that I had to.  
I lift my head as I hear the steady rumbling of the tea trolley wheels approaching down the hall, and force my teary eyes to remain dry as a desert. Sebastian knocks again and pushes open the door, the afternoon light dancing upon the shiny surface of the intricate silver tray and its surroundings.  
"Your tea, my lord. Earl grey with a dash of lemon and honey."  
I do not respond other than a slight nod as he places the over-dressed items in front of me. He pours the brown liquid fluidly, the motions seemingly engrained into him. He sets the pot back on the gleaming metal and pushes the cart aside, awaiting my next order or dismissal.  
I take a sip from the cup, my tongue not quite registering what has been presented. I find myself lost in how the sunlight waltzes around the opaque drink, creating circular patterns in the emerging ripples.  
"You may go, now... Sebastian."  
I say,  
"I wish to be left alone until dinner."  
He bows slightly, taking ahold of the trolley once more. His grasp seems fierce, yet his face stays the same as he replies.  
"Yes, my lord."  
And exits the room, shutting the door behind him in closure. I set the teacup on to the small plate below, pushing it to the side. I know full-well that it is going to become cold as ice, because I know full-well that I will not drink another drop.  
I cannot stop remembering... I cannot stop dwelling in the past. I cannot let go of my hate. But then again, why should I? My past... my hate is what defines me. It seems to me as though humans choose to do either one of two things: They either forget their past in hopes of a future they cannot hold without it, or they dwell in a past that does not allow them the future they want. I suppose, without a guaranteed future in my own hands, I may as well cling to the thing that will never leave me.  
I will always remember.  
Do not go gentle... I love you.  
I love you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I pull away.  
> My Father's gun is under my pillow... do not look.  
> Do not feel.

{ And another one bites the dust... but why can I not conquer love? }  
\- Sia  
〰〰〰〰  
They say it's hard to lose a chosen one... yet I do feel as lost as Alice in Wonderland here. It seems to me that the important parts of things wear down and break first, much like how our minds are not ready for the decaying of our hearts and lungs. I was branded and beaten, and though I chose this fate for myself, I do not know whether I am the deceiver or the deceived.   
I hardly touch my breakfast, eating only enough to rid of my pounding headache; not enough to vanish my persistent nausea that always seems to be biting at me vaguely. I pick at my toast and eggs... pulling apart bits of the scone in front of me. My neck-tie feels too tight... the lace tipping my sleeves scratching my wrists at every move.  
Sebastian stands stoically by my side, my chin resting on my palm as I push my half-eaten plate to the side. He moves to take it away, just like always. I sit back, grabbing my walking stick from its resting place propped on the table. I watch Sebastian as he exits to the kitchen, his tailcoat disappearing behind the swinging double-doors. I suppose I cannot blame Sebastian for acting the same as he always has... for I am not giving him any special treatment of my own; staying as emotionless as possible... as usual.  
I sigh slightly, going over the day's schedule in my head. An arduous amount of paperwork awaits me in my study, it is sure to be tedious task... its promise silently menacing. Why must the queen expect me to deal with so much death? So many bodies laying underneath the midnight moon... I cannot bear to hear them cry any longer.  
As my own Mother lied underneath that moon... as my own Mother cried alongside my Father as her skin burned and her eyes turned ashen. She sang me to sleep. She wanted me to come with her. I want to go with her. I want to go with Sebastian. I want to go.  
I hear the demon's footstep reproaching and I know what his next words will be.  
"There is paperwork waiting. Shall I escort you to your study?"  
I stand.  
"Yes."  
I begin to climb the dusty stairs leading up into the upper floors of the mansion, the heels of my boots clicking against the wood.   
I pass the same portraits I pass every single day, yet their haunting image never ceases to send a shiver down my spine. A portrait of my Father... my Father's Father... a long line of Phantomhives that never lived to see another day; a long line of noble patrons that may still be awaiting their next meal. Their expressions match their deaths; secretive and disturbingly curious and surprised.  
As we reach the door to my office, I step aside to allow Sebastian to push open one of the large and heavy doors leading into the vast room, his eyes avoiding mine as mine avoid his. I step inside, handing my cane to Sebastian as he is to put it in its rightful home. I stride over to my oak prison, reluctantly sitting on the luxurious throne.  
Even amongst a sea of wealth and well-being, I still feel as though there is so much missing; perhaps a loving touch coming from a source accepted. I suppose I will always be a failure of sorts, for even though I have the world accessible to my fingertips, I still feel as though it is all inadequate. As if I am foolish enough to believe that any certain emotion would prove productive enough to serve life to my living.  
The rest of the day passes silently. My busy hands distract my wandering mind as I do the same tasks I accomplish everyday; no new news from the bother-some queen leaving me to realize that no matter what, the world will still turn and these walls will still crumble around me. I cannot stop this manor from burning; for it already has.  
After picking through a dinner consisting of some type of soup and a fancy french bread to accompany it (I wasn't really listening), I order Sebastian to draw my bath. It is in this time that I despise myself and him most, despite my poor attitude surrounding the rest of my days. For it is this time that I am made to become bare and be washed clean by such an dirty being... I am made to be reduced in size and demeanor as his hungry eyes watch me. Though we both know that I am as unclean as always, and this kind of filth can never be washed away. See, there is this clouded sense of doubt regarding whether I trust Sebastian enough not to consume my soul right then... though I do. I do trust him.  
His crimson eyes scan my pale skin... his own colorless hands brushing against the scar on my back... against the brand that I can never escape; that will never be clean. His ebony hair shines in the light of the washroom as his features stay relentlessly in place: showing no more emotion than I am.  
He lays me back and washes my hair, making sure not to submerge my face... though I'm sure he is tiring of me and would love to do so. Perhaps he would like to tie my neck-tie even tighter as well; I am prolonging my revenge to the point of decay. But I do not think he understands that I have almost gone mad with the hate flowing through my veins... I cannot stand my mind any longer, for what it thinks of me is monstrous.  
He washes my hair and body silently... slowly... and I pray that he is not repulsed. All I want is for him to deem me beautiful; for if a fiend of hell can do that much, I at least must be worthy of the hate I bestow upon the weak. I must be worthy of what I give. I must be worthy of an imaginary love.  
But perhaps he does love me... perhaps he loves me so much as to act the opposite on the snap of my fingers. Perhaps he understands the notion of letting me command my own happiness. But if that is true, he must know that I am not happy. He must know that I loathe myself the way I'm sure he does, too.  
I stand, letting Sebastian wrap me in a towel to dry. I walk into the wallpapered closure of my bedroom, and sit on the edge of the bed, trying to rid myself of this unbearable numbness. Sebastian drys me, and slips my nightshirt on. It smells of him, as all of them do. I am glad that he's never thought oddly of my order to use his dress-shirts as pajamas, for sometimes it is enough to calm the nightmares, if only for a moment.  
And as he begins to stand, I stop him; grabbing him by his tie.  
"Wait, Sebastian."  
There is so much I need to say. There is so much I know will never be said, though I know I must make him understand. I let my facade crack if only for a moment, for in this moment I am desperate to tell him everything.  
I am desperate to tell him that I do indeed love him. I am desperate to tell him that I am sorry, but I have given up. I am desperate to tell him that if, in another life, we could have been one for more than just a day, I would be happy. I become more and more desperate in my mind and I need to tell him.  
I need to tell him that it is all becoming too much. I need to tell him that though I am young, I have seen the world through his eyes. I need to tell him that there is an entire flock of birds flitting around my lungs as I begin to whisper these things to him.  
So I do. I tell him. I whisper. I lean in and press my lips to his gently. It is not like our first; a sloppy, passionate kiss that sent my mind into a frenzy. It is not like before, because now there is an entirely new meaning resting behind my tongue. I let my lips linger because I want him to know. I let my hand wrap around his neck because I want to feel his pulse. I want to know that he is alive. I want to feel alive.  
In this moment when time freezes and my eyes flutter closed so that I do not see his, is the moment wherein I finally feel the breath enter my lungs. I finally can feel the warmth in my body, and it is all I need. I want to begin to mold our lips together. I want him to slide his tongue along mine as he pulls me closer... but I pull away.  
I pull away because it is all too much. I pull away because I begin to feel that sting behind my eyes again, and I cannot let this confusing creature see me cry, though I may seem all the more confusing to him. I pull away because I cannot bear any more of an attachment to this creature. I pull away. I pull far away. I pull away because my Father's gun is under my pillow, and this demon must not know that his meal has already been spoiled.  
I pull away.  
My Father's gun is under my pillow... do not look.  
Do not feel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I pull the tigger.  
> I whisper through my tears... this is what I want.  
> I am so, so afraid.

{ Mama, I just killed a man... put a gun against his head, pulled the trigger, now he's dead. Mama... life has just begun, and now I've gone and thrown it all away. }  
\- Queen  
〰〰〰〰  
I will not go gentle. I will fight and I will win. I will beat life at its own game. Sebastian does not say a single word as I lay down, still facing him though my hands shake. My hands shake and tremor as if my body is the Earth and my hands are continents. My bones are full of constellations and I want them to be released; I want them to shine in the open air.  
Sebastian stands as I stare him down. And he does stare back. He stares back with the intensity of an ocean, and I feel as if I know he hears a whisper in the air. I know he hears a whisper in the air that is telling him to stay... it's telling him that tonight the nightmares will come whilst I am still awake, ripping open my flesh and finally letting the voices made of stars spill onto the sheets.  
His eyes are beautiful. His eyes are so beautiful... and I want to remember them always. I want to remember them in the moment when the color fades from mine, and a fire is lit in his. And I feel as though mine are already faded, as I let myself relax into the pillows... let my muscles melt into the duvet.  
Soon it will all be over. Soon Sebastian will have all the more reason to resent me. Soon he will not have to worry over things he surely doesn't anyway. Soon everything will be but a memory; a blank page in a story that will never be finished. Soon the ink will run as clear as a river, and all will be well again. Soon I will not have to love a monster. Soon this monster will not be forced to love me.  
I feel an elation that is mixed with my fear and sadness... blending in with the mossy ground where I will soon lay. The tight prickle still bites at my eyes and I do not know for what reason, but my vision blurs... but I feel the urge to smile. I do. I do smile; a small, upturning of my lips. I am smiling at Sebastian, and he simply looks at me... though I see a fire kindling behind his eyes made of glass. It only lasts a moment, for I know that all must be well. All must be well. And a sad, stoic boy smiling does not mean well.  
I turn over, a signal for the servant to leave the empty room. A signal for this servant to leave this meaningless space behind. He does. He leaves. He leaves me there, and though I have told myself numerous times that this is what I want... and that I knew this all would hurt... I cannot help but to feel my heart shrivel more. Sebastian leaves. He leaves and he subtly left the still-burning candelabra on the nightstand, the door clicking shut behind him. But soon I cannot see the candles. Soon I cannot see at all, for now I know that there are tears clouding my irises.   
I let the tears come, yet I do not sob as they fall to the silken sheets and pillow cases. My life has been broken beyond repair. This is not what Mother wanted. She wanted me to live. Mother and Father wanted me to get out alive. I had. I had gotten out alive from the fire... but nobody does. Nobody gets out of this life alive. We all try so hard to evade the inevitable. We all try so hard to run from death. But I am tired of running. My legs have failed me and so has my heart. My heart has failed the ones I love and loved.  
I sit up, the salty tears still burning lines down my cheeks. I do not want to reach under the pillow. Though I have much pride, I must admit that I am afraid. I am so, so afraid. I want my life... I want my life so bad. But I have done everything I can. I trust no one.... the only trust I had to reserve... the only trust I had to give has been wasted on Sebastian. Tears are worthless. I am worthless. I have been weak. I have been defiant to the point of shattering, and now I will not go gentle. I will not go gentle. I refuse to let fate rule over free will.  
I reach under the pillow. I reach under the pillow quickly, not looking back. My fingertips touch the cold metal of the gun, and it makes such a sweet, satisfying noise as I pull it from the silk. The feeling of that cool metal weapon is all too much, and a sob rips its way from my throat as I hold the thing in my hands. I cry out loud again. I cry a hoarse, throaty cry and clamp my hand over my mouth, breathing heavy as my still-shaking hands bring the object into view.  
The glistening metal shines in the candlelight as I look down at it. Then, my gaze is pulled towards the sky. My gaze is pulled heavenward, and I know that is not where I am destined... I know that if Mother and Father are waiting for me, they will be waiting for an eternity, for there is no place in heaven for souls who have been damned by the wicked.  
"I'm sorry."  
I whisper through my tears. I whisper through all the lies people have promised me. I whisper an apology to my parents... to my wonderful and loyal servants. I whisper an apology to everyone and anyone who I am about to let down. I whisper and apology to Sebastian, for he will surely be the one to find me. I whisper this apology only because my last words are lost, for there is no one around to hear them. My remorse will fall of deaf ears. There is no one around. There is no one around to accept my words.  
I look back down at the gun in my hands, and I know that I am a true killer. I have slain, I have murdered and lied... I have attempted revenge, yet I suppose if I take away the prize, there is no game to play. If there is no game, there is no one to play it. But it is all over, now. Everything is over.  
All thoughts leave my mind. I let myself slip into numbness as my hand drops to my side, the one holding the metal rising up to meet the side of my head. And I shake. I am shaking badly as I press the barrel harder onto my hair. I am done. I am done so I can forgive. I forgive myself for all that I have done. I forgive myself for all that has been done to me. This is what I want.  
And I pull the tigger.  
I whisper through my tears... this is what I want.  
I am so, so afraid.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to call out.  
> Stay... stay... I want to die.  
> I want to die.

{ Winged children all, fly over the mountain wall to deliver the sky; slice its belly full wide with their warm knives. Not to the pinpricks of starlight, but to bathe in the bright blood of the world... of the world above. }  
\- Shearwater  
〰〰〰〰  
The sound of the gun is loud through my closed eyelids; its piercing bang turning any noise into shadow. The sound is loud and I feel no pain. No such feeling invades my body as the gun's backfire nearly snaps my small wrist in half, sending the gun clattering to the floor. I feel nothing. I see nothing. I hear nothing.  
I am terrified to open my eyelids, for his eyes become the only color I can see. But I force myself to escape the barrage of red blaring behind my corneas. I open my eyes. I open my eyes to see that I am still in my lavished bed. I am still in my bed and someone is grabbing my wrist. I gasp, turning to see Sebastian behind me, holding my wrist and looking at me with an unreadable expression. His other hand lingers near my ear, and that's when I see that he is holding the bullet. He caught the bullet... he caught the bullet?  
I swiftly turn around, angry now that my one chance at freedom has been robbed from me, just like everything else has. His unfair advantages enrage me as my eyes fill with passion.  
"No, no, no! No!"  
I shout, struggling to free myself from his grasp. He flicks the bullet off to the side, and I clearly see it roll of the edge of the bed as it clatters to the floorboards below. I feel as though I am watching everything I've ever cared about plummet of the edge of a cliff as that little silver bullet rolls away from me. Sebastian grabs my other hand now, pinning me to the mattress.  
"No, you can't do this! I need that!"  
I frantically attempt reach off to the side, the contalations I claim to have hidden inside me burning like a wildfire. The gun and its only bullet lay scattered across the wood and carpeting; my only hope at the freedom of release scattered... scattered on the floor.  
"No! No! Sebastian, let me go! No! Please! Let me do it! Let me die! Take my soul! Take it now!"  
My breath comes in frantic and short, tears spilling like rivers down the sides of my face. I am sobbing like a child, struggling and kicking under my captor. Everything is wrong. Nothing is alright. I am the slave. Sebastian is my master. He will have my soul. He is far stronger and I have just proven my weakness. He controlls me... and I gladly let him.  
"Just let me do it! I want to die! I want to die! I want to die. I want to-"  
I finally give up, letting him hold me as my sobs take over my ability to do much of anything at all. I'm gasping and crying... and I feel his grip relax. I feel his grip relax as he pulls me to him, sitting back and resting my chest to his. I sob against his white shirt. And he is so, so warm... He is so warm, and my breath begins to shake as his arms come around me, sheltering me from my own storm.  
"Ciel."  
I grip onto his shirt. He has never once called me by my name. He has never once called me by my name... even in the throws of passion he seemed to remain ultimately stoic. And he still does, the fire I predicted burning in his eyes the only thing that shows me anything at all.  
"Why?"  
He might be whispering to himself as his soft, bare fingers stroke along my hair and back.  
"Because I am going to die anyway. And I do not want you to kill me."  
I stutter through my whispering,  
"I do not want you to kill me, I want to stay with you. You're all I have, Sebastian. I want to stay with the only one who seems to care."  
I continue to cry softly as I bury my face in his chest. I know that he is a monster. I know that he cannot love. But as I said once before, I love him. I love him, and I am desperate to be released from the cage of my pride.  
"You cannot love me, can you?"  
No, it is foolish. He is a creture cloaked in shadow, a creature devoid of human emotion. He is a demon... a fein... a monster of limitless ferocity. He cannot help his nature. But I cannot help mine. I cannot help my nature to cling to the one thing that has given me salvation. I cannot help it.  
I do not let him answer, though I know he probably wouldn't anyway. Instead, I opt into even more foolishness. Instead, I begin to beg for mercy. Instead, I begin to beg,  
"Just take me, then. Eat my soul. Get it over with."  
I sit up, my left hand still clinging to his shirt... my gaze falling towards the sheet below me.  
"I beg your pardon?"  
He sits up as well, and I know that he heard me loud and clear, for my voice was the only thing that had pierced the salty air around us.  
"We'd both be better off."  
I look up at him through my hair, which has now fallen further into my eyes. His eyes are swimming, full of fire and ice and rain, and through these storm clouds I can see everything he has ever thought of me.  
"This is an order, Sebastian! Eat my soul, now!"  
And he does not move a muscle.  
The silence that presses through us after the echoes of my command have faded is louder than words. His eyes close for a brief second, and I feel as though the entire world has been cut off from me; the vacancy of that red be so intense. I let go of the white shirt he wears, letting my hand fall beside me.  
Of course he cannot end me. He cannot end me until my revenge has been followed through, and that order stands above all others. We both know this, and I do not let myself begin to cry again as I understand what I am. I am an animal. I am an animal trapped in a cage, and he is dangling the rarest cut of meat right above my head. I, the animal, need that steak more than my own life, and at the very moment of its consumption is when the arrow shall pierce my heart and stop its beating.  
I look away, yet I feel Sebastian's weight leave the bed. I crawl back into my original place under the covers, and rest my head on the gunless pillow. I stare at the high ceiling, my eyes tired and watering. Sebastian pulls the duvet over me, and i am enveloped in warmth as he relights the one candle that has sputtered out.  
He stands and looks at me for a moment, and in that moment I do not look back, though i feel his heavy gaze upon me. He utters one last sentence before he leaves,  
"I cannot."  
And it is unclear to me what he is replying to. But though he expressed his 'inability' through words... we both must know that his actions tonight were not out of selfishness; for if they were, he would have eaten my soul. I once heard that demons used to be angles; perhaps a hymn my mother once told me... but I have never seen or heard of a demon who has turned down a soul just for ripening. For I have also heard that demons are selfish... and though our contracts remains in place, I chose death myself. He had no obligation to save a soul he intends to devour. Though he has stayed with me through my darkest hour his intentions are kept silent. No, demons shouldn't turn away sustenance.   
Yet I hear his shoes click across the floor, and I do not ask him to stay with me again, for I do not want to feel the way I did before. I do not know if he can love me. I do not know if he can love a soul even more demonic than demons are. So I do not call out to the damned, for I am damned myself. Though I want to. I want to call out to him. I want to whisper 'stay... stay...' as I catch one last glimpse through the closing door.  
I want to call out.  
Stay... stay... I want to die.  
I want to die.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I am going there, soon.  
> I want to be surrounded by him... he is so warm.  
> He is so warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY THE SMUTTY STUFF I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR~
> 
> ok but this shit is what i live for, basically

{ We cry as Sinners to the Lord, salvation to obtain; it is firmly fixed, his holy Word. Ye shall not cry in vain. }  
\- Jupiter Hammon  
〰〰〰〰  
"No, no. This is all wrong."  
I mutter, my words getting muffled by the slick wood of my desk and my wool sleeve as I lay me head down on the surface. There is an endless pile of papers stacked haphazardly upon the oak, their loose leaflets reminiscent of butterfly wings and lily pads swinging in the restless air. But the air is still, it's choking aura in a mess that binds my ribs together and prevents me from breathing.   
The suffocating stiffness is only increased by the silence that follows. My ears perk up, searching for a noise to hear. Even a pin dropping would be enough the stimulate the overwhelming stillness. My skin begins to prickle as the air grows cooler, the sun moving behind a grey raincloud. I wish for the rain to never end; to flood out this wretched house and its wretched master, taking everything and demolishing it with them.  
"What is all wrong, Master?"  
My dream is short-lived as I start, quickly glancing up to see Sebastian standing beside me. I let my breath out slowly through my nose, looking back towards the wood desk that holds so much sadness. How Sebastian has appeared so quickly and soundlessly seems irrelevant, and I stay silent. I sit there with my legs crossed and my elbows on the desk, my hands laced together like a prison... laced together like a prison that holds everyone who's ever laid their filthy hands on my name.  
"Nothing. I just need to rest for a bit is all."  
I say, my eyes unmoving from the spot of the papers they're glued to; a random spot which looks fuzzy to me, little spots of ink splattered on the edges.  
"Very well."  
He replies,  
"Shall I fix you some tea to help you relax a bit more?"  
I almost scoff at that remark. He knows very well what I need in order to relax, and he knows very well that is it him. I hold my tongue. I hold it tight.  
"Yes, that would be nice."  
As I stand, it all happens in an instant. He places his fingers under my chin and tilts my head up to his as I rise, his other arm barely snaking around my waist delicately. He leans down like a shadow, his hair falling from behind his ear to mask the smirk I know he is hiding. He's always wearing that mask. He masks it all from me. He masks the fact that he is toying with me as he presses his lips to mine softly.  
He presses his mouth to mine so softly... so soft it breaks my heart more and more with each little kiss he gives me. His kisses are so sweet as his mouth begins to move against mine with more pressure, and it is as if he is caressing my very being with his tongue as I invite him in to my mouth with a welcome sigh. I always welcome him. I should not, but I always do. This time, though, I do begin to struggle against his grip a bit, slightly pushing against the buttons of his shirt, attempting to mutter a little 'no' or some kind of defiance that would not ultimately lead to my corruption. I know that I have already lost this game of his. But anything I have to say is muffled by how warm he is... by how much I am utterly sinking into his touch. The feeling of his lips against mine overwhelms all coherent thoughts as my lips begin to search for his.  
I feel as though I am melting into him as his arms wrap around me tighter, pulling me towards him. I cannot help but to grasp his tailcoat with one desperate hand, the other hand searching for his hairline to sink my fingers in to the ebony crowning his head. My hips press against his and I am ashamed when I little mew escapes my lips.  
His tall stature picks me up by my thighs, setting me on the counter and sending my stack of insect wings and ink stains to the floor. He lays me back on the now clear wood, looming over me with an endearing wrath as he continues to kiss me slowly, drawing out every inch of willpower from my bones. Sebastian, my savior... Sebastian, the corrupt and corrupted kneads his fingers into my flesh, sliding his hands along my leg.... down my side and through my hair. He removes my eyepatch slowly, moving his mouth down to my neck and shoulder, lifting up the small of my back and sliding my overcoat away from me.  
His touch burns through every inch of me, each kiss, lick and bite sending me closer to the edge. Each loving caress and gentle stab at my heart masochistically pleasurable through my breath that begins to come in short. I feel my heart pounding as my legs wrap around his torso, my hands now gripping at his hair and neck, wanting more of him. He feels so good to me in this moment. Everything he does is so, so good and I melt and fall further into his embrace with each moment I spend under him, and wraped in his embrace... wraped in his grasp.  
As the moments pass I wantt to be surrounded by him more and more. I want to be surrounded by him. I want him to surround me in a reminder that he is all my future really holds. I want the essence of him to sweep me away in a flurry like the storm slowly brewing outside. I gasp, pulling him closer to me as he swiftly pulls my shirt from my trousers and slides his hands up my bare chest. I shudder, every inch of my skin heated and tingling. I tug his hair and he tugs on the buttons of my shirt, an invisible noose tied around my neck as my eyes flutter closed.  
But the noose is not a rope, rather Sebastian's lips and teeth. His gums and tongue are what is suffocating the life out of me. But I love it. I love the way his hungry eyes stare down at me through a haze... all the while his fingers are running up the small of my back as I arch in to him, my fingers grasping at his ears and hairline; leaving marks of glory and gore wherever they go.  
He's unbuttoning my shirt now, effortlessly popping open button after button, snaking his teeth down my bare chest. He bites me softly, right beneath my collar-bone. My grip on him tightens. He pulls my hands away and pins my wrists to the table above my head, knocking my rings against the wood with a slam. I cry out, making a weak attempt at freeing myself.  
My ribs rub up against the hard top of the desk, my stomach and torso searching further for his touch... his warmth... and I lean my head back, exposing my neck to him with my eyes closed.  
"Such a trusting act, my lord; baring such a sensitive place just for me... who's to say I won't just devour you right now, hmm?"  
He whispers huskily in my ear, his breath tickling the back of my spine in an erotic hush of a tone.  
And I know exactly what he means. Though devour might've been the operative word in his statement... insinuating more than just one thing. I moan softly, much to my dismay, as I quickly bite my lip to quiet anymore sounds spilling from my opened lips. But my eyes open wide as I stifle another gasp, for it is only now that I may think clearly enough to hesitate; his voice jarred me so.  
My legs drop from around his waist and my hips stop searching for his as my back sinks back down to the table slowly, my entire being stilling. My breath is shallow and quiet as I do not let my gasps escape me further. My hands slowly unclench, yet I grow stiff and cautious as I feel Sebastian's hot breath still on my neck and ear.  
I can almost feel his amusement, and I suppose a demon would not know any other way to give love than sadistically... much like humans do not let themselves become animalistic in nature. His tongue slips out to snake around my earlobe and I bite back a whimper, my neck long-sense brought back straight and rigid.  
"Sebastian..."  
There's no where to go as I try to wriggle myself free of his grasp. I am much like a dog caught in a trap in tis moment, and I suppose it is a perfect analogy for our relationship as a whole: I am desperately clinging to the only thing that I both need and hate; that I both want so badly and loathe so deeply. His body pressed against mine... his mouth slowly nibbling at my earlobe and sending shivers down my shoulder-blades. My breath hitches in my throat as I force myself not to react to what he is doig to me.  
"stop."  
I mutter, my eyes focusing on my wall-papered surroundings.  
His smooth fingers unwrap from around my wrists, yet I let them rest above my head still. He slides off me slowly, the buttons of his tail-coat brushing against my pale skin. I feel as though something has been taken from me and my throat feel tight as the pressure of him levaes me. I lay there as he buttons my shirt, tucking it into my trousers. I let him pull me upright so he may put my previously discarded jacket back onto my trembling shoulders. He smoothes down my hair and straightens my neck-tie. I just keep taking in ragged breathes, my vision blurring and my mind dazed and fuzzy.  
He seemingly summons my eyepatch from nothing, tying it back against my eye and silently making sure I am in some sort of order. Though I can feel how his hands trace over me, now... and his touch is different than it was this morning when he went through this same routine. His touch is searing now... the hellfire burning in his eyes reaching to the tips of his gloved fingers and burning against me.  
The wildfire that is him is running down every tree in sight, slipping through charred wood and fallen leaves just to swoop towards the thing that matters most: destruction. But it is a beautiful kind of chaos... an endearing and passionate one, full of the damned and lonesome. It is a place where hatred runs wild and pain does not heal with time. Wounds do not close with the loss of memories, there... and it is a place where I oh-so-fittingly belong in. Yes, I belong in this place of his; this place that exist just behind his eyes. A place resting beneath a silken curtain that sweeps across his gaze every time he blinks.  
And I am going there, soon.  
I want to be surrounded by him... he is so warm.  
He is so warm.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knows what I'm saying.  
> 'I am so sorry...' goodbye.  
> Goodbye.

{ It looks ugly, but it's clean. Oh, mama... don't fuss over me. }  
\- Hozier  
〰〰〰〰  
I awake with an aching in my chest; the kind of ache where every part of you feels like burning. The fireplace in the corner had been lit, its piercing glare warming my irises. I sniff, turning my head back to the ceiling, my lazy gaze following. A dark mantra of colors and feelings hit me with a bubbling ebb as I stare dizzily into the tide of the cool air above. My arms feel heavy as I attempt to lift myself to sit. My head spins as I brace myself for another sleepless night to close. An unwelcome parade of light surges in through the lacy curtains of the widow to my right, making my stomach twist in knots at the thought of the masquerade I am forced to put on day after day.  
I'll never be who I strive to be. I'll never be noble and strong; commanding my people from my perch on high. No. Instead I will always be small. I will always be heart-wrenchingly weak and fragile. I will always fein power, though I am the one who is being controlled. For I am ugly and demonized. I am grossly prideful, though truthfully I am like a frightened deer. And if this is the way the world truly is, I desperately need someone to hold me. I need someone to save me. I need someone to love me. I need to be loved, for there is no place in this world for someone like me. I need to be loved. I need to feel Sebastian's arms around me as his lips graze across my skin gracefully. I need to feel his fingers pressing against my thighs and hips... enveloping me fully.  
I close my eyes as my own fingers wander to the crook of my neck, to the place where Sebastian's tongue has been dragged along. The pads of my slender digits press and knead that spot that drives me to madness, and I sigh deeply. I let my hand fall away like broken petals falling in the wind, opening my bicolored eyes. I can feel the silence in the room, now. I can feel the grogginess of dawn fading away slowly as I can feel the space around me.  
As if on cue, Sebastian's footsteps sound through the walls as he approaches. I stiffen, waiting for the heartbreak and disappointment that follows him like a shadow to plague our every move. I let my hair fall down to cover my eyes, keeping my head cast downwards, now. My neck aches. I can feel my breath coming in short. the door opens. He steps inside.  
"I see my young master is already awake."  
I refuse to look at him, keeping my eyes cast down to my fidgeting fingers.  
"I am."  
He walks over to my dresser, pulling out some remnants of fabric to adorn my body with. The threads he pulls are black; a resting color for my tired eyes. I shift over to drape my legs off the side of the bed.  
"What's the schedule for today?"  
I ask in a flat affect, now staring blankly at the maroon colored draperies by the desk and dressers.  
"Lady Elizabeth is scheduled to arrive today, sir. I trust you are in good enough company to entertain?"  
He asks passively, not looking at me. Though I know there is a dark, dark smirk resting just behind his lips... between his teeth. I shift my eyes up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly to ward away any moisture gathered there. Of course he knows I am in no such company... or at least he should, by the way my breath leaves me so shakily.  
"Very well."  
I reply in a haste, slightly shivering at the way his hands stroke my calves as he rolls thin, black socks over them and up to my knees. He buckles the garters, standing to fetch my rings and eyepatch from the crystal dish on the night stand. I hold out my hands and close my eyes... and I can almost feel Sebastian's smirking as he worries the rings on to my fingers.  
I almost shudder violently as the cool metal touches my heated fingers.  
"What time is Elizabeth scheduled to arrive, then?"  
I ask firmly, demanding my voice to stay even and controlled as white-hot anger settles on my shoulders and chest.  
I am relieved my sadness has elevated into anger... then at least I am justifiably out of control, instead of this wanton thing in need of saving. Then at least I am nobly emotional in a strong and non-heinous way. Though I ask for saving over and over again through the way my tears fall over my cheeks and into my hair.  
"Eleven-o-clock."  
Sebastian replies, straightening out my neck tie and eyepatch before taking to his feet gracefully. I glance at the clock opposite me. It reads half-past-ten, and I note that I am in no mood to force down various amounts of scones and breakfast pastries.  
I stand, taking the walking-stick Sebastian hands me.  
"How long will she be here?"  
I look him in the eyes, the colors of wine, blood and roses seeping into my dull-ocean irises.  
"Until five pm tomorrow, I would say."  
I sigh, staring out towards my bedroom door.  
"Alright, then. Do see to it that a room is prepared upon her arrival."  
I pause, and turn back towards the demon still standing hauntingly by the fire.  
"But I'm quite sure you knew that already... I'm skipping breakfast today. Please do not bother me until the Lady's arrival. I will be in my study."  
I finish, turning away from the figure who could easily be draped in a dark hooded cloak and still seem the same.   
Darkness spills from him to wantonly. It spills from him like leaves from the vine. And as the carpeted halls drift by me while I leave the confines on my smothering room, I feel as though those leaves are now gathering at my feet; around my ankles and hips. But these leaves are not the kind that fall in autumn's cold yet gentle embrace. No. These leaves are far more sinister: made of deer teeth and moth wings... crowned by horns made of ivory the color of English lakes right before the freeze hits. The leaves follow my winds like a lost dog, obeying me. Sebastian's fingers kiss my skin with them in his hands, and I remind myself how evil their pointed ends can be.   
I finally find myself snug in my secluded study... and wrapped in the bookcases around me, I finally feel somewhat alone. Now, my cousin Elizabeth has never been someone I find enticing; our youth-bound betrothal hanging over our heads evan as infants. She is not someone I may find fitting for my hand... though I suppose no one would be, seeing as I shall be long gone before my eighteenth birthday. I do give my blond-haired fiancé the time of day, though... for that is what my Mother would have fussed over. It's been quite sometime since our last meeting, and I all but pray she doesn't notice how I have faded in time.   
I glance at the clock: fifteen till. I sigh, reassuring myself that no work could be done in the amount of time given. I lean back in my chair. The letter from the Queen that is sitting to the side can wait. I quickly glance over at the parchment by the wax stamp of the Queen, my eyes running along the shiny red and faded paper. I remind myself that this is what my parents' legacy was... this is what the Phantomhive's soul purpose is. We serve the Queen and the Queen only. It is quite a shame that I shall not live to carry on my parents' legacy... my legacy.   
I find my gaze drifting upwards to the ceiling, noting at how the corners where the walls meet are cracked and covered in cobwebs. The dust has gathered upon the little strands of webs that look like galaxies... the caked and muddy appearance almost looking like stars concealing the icy little threads. But the feeling of awe at those tiny little spider homes soon disappears as I fall back into staring sadness in the face. For that healthy layer of dust proves to me that though it was once a safe shelter to hide in, it has lost meaning to the little insect that was once buried there. Perhaps said arachnid was killed by a dust-pan... or swept away by someone's shoe.   
A knock sounds at the door.  
"Come in."  
Sebastian opens the door, lightly stepping inside like a ghoul from the shadows.  
"Lady Elizabeth has arrived, sir. Will you be coming to the first floor to greet her?"  
"Of course."  
I stand, letting my butler lead me down the dusted halls and down the empty staircase. As soon as I enter the drawing-room, I am confronted by Elizabeth's bright, vigorous smile and high-pitched, happy vocals.  
"Ciel!"  
I suppose she heard my footsteps and turned towards me, standing up in a flutter of pink silk and lace. I hear her teacup clank down upon the coffee table in front of her as she does so, and hope that there will be no cracks remaining from her haste.  
"Oh, Ciel I'm so glad you-"  
Light blue eyes lock with mine and she stops, suddenly. Her irises start swimming and pooling with something unattainable, and as her dress skirts settle down to the floor like a waterfall of pearls and ribbon, the expression on her face turns solemn. It is unlike any emotion I have seen displayed upon her features; much like a child watching their home burn down or being told that Santa Clause isn't real... or maybe realizing that fairytales are things meant solely for storybooks, and that real life does not contain beautifully drawn painting and pictures to light your way in darkness.  
I stare back at her with the same intensity, and I'm sure you could cut the the electricity buzzing around the room and collecting between our gazes with a butter knife. I can tell that this is the moment in which she realizes that she is not a princess, and I am most certainly not her prince. I am not 'cute'. I am not here for her entertainment. I am not her love, nor her light; as I have never been neither for anyone at all.  
"Ciel... Ciel, whatever is the matter?"  
Her voice sounds hollow... empty. It has lost it's elasticity and now it is crumbling away without the penetrating presence of her usual projection resting in her lungs and throat. Though the subtext rings loud and clear. I know what she is saying. She is asking me where I have gone. And though she can not see what is behind my eyepatch... though she can not see the places where my scalp has gone scabbed and bloody from the places where I pick at it, she knows that the soul sleeping in my chest is tired.  
"Sebastian, please begin the preparations for lunch. And if you wouldn't mind, open the letter from Victoria on my desk."  
My voice has taken on the same tone, now... and it is as if I am asking Sebastian to leave without haste, for this may be the last time he lays eyes on me.  
"Very well, my lord."  
His voice is unwavering but his footsteps sound heavy as the heavy oaken door clicks shut behind him.  
I tear my eyes away from Elizabeth's, stepping towards her and weakly grabbing a hold of her hand as I lead her back down to the muslin covered couch.  
"Elizabeth."  
She doesn't ask me to call her Lizzie as I inhale slowly, closing my eyes and tapping my thumb against the back of her hand.  
I open my eyes, stopping the movement of my finger as I look at the pitied girl once more.  
"I'm glad you could come."  
She knows what I'm saying.  
'I am so sorry...' goodbye.  
Goodbye.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am a mere watchdog.   
> I growl... listening.   
> Listening.

{ I wanted that part of my heart to die... but then I met you, and I am so glad it is alive. }  
\- Kate Mackenzie  
〰〰〰〰  
"Ciel, you're acting strange."  
I nod, and though I know that I do not feel any different than I have bfoe in her presence, I remember what I had thought whilst trying to drive a bullet through my own head... and I want her to know that I care for her; whether it is romantic or not. Sadly, Sebastian holds my heart in an iron grip. He is unfeeling and cold, yet he is salvation and warmth in the moments when he wants to be. And Elizabeth... well, she is the happiest person I have elver met. And it would pain me so to see that change because of me, no matter how bothersome it may become. For she will live to grow and change with time... and I know surely I will not.  
"I'm fine, Elizabeth."  
I say softly, and try to remember how many times I have had to utter those words while tears are threatening to burn gaping holes in my eye sockets.  
"Oh, okay. Well, I suppose you're alright, then. You always are, no?"  
"Of course."  
I can tell she is shooing away any previous thoughts, though they still stay crouched right beneath her skin and in her veins. I can tell she is troubled, for even she can feel the fragility of life in her hands.  
"Oh!"  
She suddenly squeals, clapping her hands together franticly with over excitement as she pulls away from me quickly.  
"I almost forgot, I must show you what I bought in London today! It is the season, after all... so all the cute little shops are selling things for lower prices. I just could not pass this up!"  
She begins rummaging through a large satchel placed beside her, jabbing away about how the streets were 'so crowded', and how lovely all the lords and ladies were dressed.  
"She had white ruffles on her gown... honestly. Why would you ever mix cream and white into the same dress? Maybe if you were a very small child. But they can get away with everything, you know?"  
I let my gaze wander a bit, my eyes finally resting upon a vase on the hearth across from us, and I note that I don't particularly remember where it came from... though that is the case for most things here in the manor. Of course, the Mother and Father of the household should be the ones explaining and placing and buying and selling things like that. I wonder if any regular guests notice that nothing has changed in nearly six years.  
I feel Elizabeth finally tap me upon the shoulder, signaling for me to take a look at the object in her hands. I turn towards her, drawing my gaze down to her lap. Nestled between her slender, graceful fingers is a small, gold box. The lid and sides are engraved and detailed with little leaves, cherries and bluebirds. The delicate leafing made of rose gold and silver. The beautiful designs continue their way down to a little turning knob on the side of the (what must be) music box. The little latch on the front is adorned with a small, set diamond, its sparkling surface gleaming in the light of the open windows.  
"Look... it's a music box."  
"It's quite beautiful, isn't it?"  
I say, admiring the lithe little box as she vigorously nods in agreement.  
"What song does it play?"  
"Annabel Lee. Here, listen."  
She unclasps the little gold hook, lifting up the lid. Inside, a little ballerina stands perched in an eternal pirouette, her little tulle tutu attached to the rest of her clay figure. Her pink toe shoes match her leotard and skirt perfectly. There seems to be no mistakes in the paint job on either her, or the little turning stand in which she is attached. When Elizabeth turns the golden knob on the side of the box, the music begins to play from the internal workings of the box. The brown-haired ballerina spins slowly on the baby-blue pedestal, and I can almost hear the song in amongst the clean, high notes being played.  
'It was many and many a year ago  
In a kingdom by the sea  
That a maiden there lived whom you may know  
By the name of Annabel Lee'  
Elizabeth hums along to the tune, losing her eyes with a contented smile upon her face. The music is cut short, only playing a small cut of the song. As the notes slow and finally come to a close, she opens her closed eyelids, looking relaxed and happy.  
I know she notices me watching her, for she smiles brightly.  
"That was lovely, Lizzie."  
She giggles, setting it down on the table.   
"Wasn't it?"  
She looks back at me, then... and I can tell that she can see the sadness boiling in my eyes. She slowly takes me hand in hers, and though I do not love her, I feel a sort of uncanny affection for her. She matters. No matter how much of a bother she seems to be to me, she matters. She matters to me because she is the only family I have left, and I want more than anything to be able to tell her I am sorry for leaving her. Though I am not, so called 'gone' yet, it seems to me that I may as well be. It seems as though I ave been hidden back in the recesses of my mind... like my body is a mere reflection of who I am. I feel as though I am seeing the world through a fogged-up filter day after day, the colors have dulled for I already know my fate.  
I slowly lean in towards her, bringing my hand up to her arm. I gently press my lips to her cheek... and though my heart drops with the longing that Sebastian should be the one gratefully receiving my kiss, I briefly close my eyes until I pull away. Her cheeks burn a bright red, her mouth and eyes opened in a surprised expression.   
"C-Ciel... I-"  
"Please. Don't say anything."  
〰〰〰〰  
In the morning, I awake to Sebastian's touch on my shoulder.  
"Time to wake."  
〰〰〰〰  
At breakfast, I learned that Lizzie had left early in the morning, leaving me a note that read:  
'My dearest Ciel,  
I have departed early for I feel that I have no reason to be a potential bother. You do not laugh the way you used to, and you do not carry yourself as proudly as you are pretending. None the matter... I thought I should mention that the music box is in the front parlor. It seemed as if the little ballerina inside wanted you to keep her. I apologize if I disappoint, but I wanted you to rest, for I remember you had mentioned you were tired.   
Love,  
Elizabeth'  
"Hmm..."  
I place the letter down on the table.   
"Sebastian, please see to it that all the rooms are cleaned before noon. You did read the letter from the Queen, didn't you?"  
"Ah, yes. It seems there is rumored to be a killer of extreme proportions stalking the streets of London. Five bodies have been found with no sound cause of death being identified. The victims seem to have been picked at random, though I suppose we should spare a visit to the Undertaker to be certain."  
"Sounds quite interesting."  
My eyes slide over to my left, locking on to Sebastian's wine-colored ones. I lace my fingers together, resting my chin upon my thumbs.   
"We shall leave at noon."  
I am a mere watchdog.   
I growl... listening.   
Listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to quickly say that I know Annabel Lee is a poem, and not a song... but I love EAP so I figured it's fanfiction, right?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My dreams evade me upon this night.
> 
> He leaves me here more puzzled than ever... I bite my tongue.
> 
> I bite my tongue.

{ Revenge is like drinking poison, and expecting it to hurt someone else. }  
\- William Shakespeare

〰〰〰〰

The streets of London have always smelled of decay and ruin. I can hear my shoes clicking against the slick pavement and cobblestone streets as Sebastian and I make our way up to where the Undertaker works. The strong scent of rotting corpses masked with heavy perfumes and preserving agents waft through the door as it is opened, and we step inside the cool, dank room.

"Undertaker. Are you in?"

I call out into the darkness, readying myself for the grey-haired man to spring forth upon us from a coffin, or from under the table in the corner that is covered by a stained, white sheet.

"Ah... I've been expecting you, Phantomhive."

His low, gravely voice comes from behind the front desk of the room, and I can make out his robed figure hovering with a jar of dog biscuits in his hand.

I step forward, keeping my eyes on him like a lion stalking its prey.

"I suppose you know what I am here to ask, then?"

I question him obligingly, letting a small smirk form at the corners of my mouth. A low chuckle escapes from his mouth.

"Why of course. Everybody is talking about it, you know? If I were you, I'd fix this problem soon."

Though I cannot see his eyes, I feel them searching upon me and scanning along my ribcage and collarbones.

"Care for a biscuit?"

He holds the chalky, crumbling thing up, dangling it in front of me as if he were taunting an animal. He is, though. But it is not that horrible dog treat that he is teasing me with.

"No, thank you. I don't have time for games. What is it you ask?"

He glides out from behind the desk, and I turn to face Sebastian as the Undertaker scurries up to him, circling him as a clawed-tipped finger brushes along his jawline like a knife would brush along the throat of a victim. 

"I ask only for the simplest of things, of course. The live-giving force that can drive a man mad."

He stops to turn his ominous gaze on to me.

"Prime laughter."

I sigh, briefly closing my eyes as I step towards the two men. My eyes lock with Sebastian's, and I can feel the anticipation swirling and burning through his pupils like a red flame.

"Very well. Sebastian, you know what to do."

He nods obediently, the moment hovering like a hummingbird before flitting off and out of sight.

"Please, master... close your eyes."

I find the corner of the room by the door, and crouch down with my head in my hands. This is the trick Sebastian has pulled many times before for the Undertaker, and I am glad that it is laughter he has requested, today. And though I should be frightened of what is about to become of my butler, I feel the stirrings of excitement mixing with adrenaline in the pit of my stomach.

The air grows cold around me, and I can almost feel the energy being sucked towards the center of the room; undoubtedly where Sebastian is standing. The wind outside seems to pick up and whistle through the trees and closed windows, and even behind my eyelids I can see all light and color disappear into the oblivion that is Sebastian.

I have seen Sebastian in his true demonic form thrice in the time I have known of him: first, when our contract was made, the second when he was attempting to scare off a bothersome detective... which seemed unneeded, though I may never unwind the coils of that man's mind. The last time was a year ago... and it is a time I should never forget, for he became to agitated at the thought of me that he couldn't control himself. I have never seen someone so utterly dark and writhing at such a simple thing as human speech... though I suppose that is the mystery of demons.

It had felt how it feels now, as though anything and everything would just simply disappear if your fingertips brushed along the frame of this wanton creature before you. Sebastian can be such a terrifying and ugly creature. I had not been bothered by his transformation that night a year ago, until he stepped closer and I saw the longing and hunger and lust that was swimming through his veins. He stopped, once he had pinned me there and I was fearing for my life and my sanity for I knew that he was going to devour my body and soul. He had found where I pick and scratch at my skin... and saw the self-inflicted wounds that covered my pale fragile skin. And the whole thing had started and ended with a firm, yet quiet 'stop'.

I keep my eyes squeezed shut as I hear the rustling of feathers that signal the appearance of his giant, overwhelming wings. The Undertaker's hysterical laughter starts up, and that's when I have to plug my ears to preserve the sanctity and sanity I do have left. There's something awfully disturbing about a man - or rather, reaper - laughing at the sight of a demon. I can't bear to hear it.

A few moments later the air warms and the flow of it settles around me. I slowly open my eyes and look up to see the Undertaker nearly in tears, panting and clutching the counter in order to catch his breath. Sebastian stands stoically where he was before, but I can see in the way his expression is so stoic yet impish in the way that he feeds off of chaos and destruction. I inhale. I exhale. In, and out. In, and out. In. Out. In. Out.

I stand, gearing my brain back towards the target goal. I look up at Sebastian, glaring at him in a way he must find endearing... for he smirks at me as I turn away.

"Undertaker."

I say firmly. He stops laughing, clearing his throat and standing tall like a captain on a ship. Though he is still holding back a fit of laughter... and anyone would be able to tell you that.

"Now, do tell me... who, or what, and how? I value your opinion, though I suppose if yo-"

He coughs again, scurrying behind the desk, the humor of the moment now gone to him. He rustles around with some papers he pulls from a drawer I cannot see, and pulls out a parchment leaflet.

"Well, well... Phantomhive. I hope you know you're in for it."

He chuckles lightly, his smirk ominous and disturbing for once.

"As you may have guessed... the killer cannot be human, for there is no observed cause of death. The only thing that could've killed these people are reapers, for a demon always leaves a mark."

I shudder. Sebastian shifts his weight beside me. If the killer truly is a reaper, the stakes have been heightened, for only a reaper can kill a demon, and only a demon can kill a reaper.

"Yes, the victims are quite random... but only because whoever is doing the killing is smart. The people whom have been murdered have no connections. The only thing linking them is that they all live in London. No where else. London. Which makes it harder for you to track, and easier for them to kill."

I sigh.

"Well I mustn't expect you to give me advice on how to hunt the killer, or killers, should I?"

I look at him from the corner of my eye, beginning to turn away to leave.

"Wait, Phantomhive. The only thing I can say is that you ought to stay on high-alert at all times. You must be quick on your heels and smart in your reactions."

He glances at Sebastian.

"Good luck."

We leave. 

In the evening, I sit on the edge of my bed. Dressed and ready for sleep. Sebastian stands in front of me, having just buttoned my nightshirt closed.

"I do believe you are in a proper state, now."

He admires his handiwork. Though I know he is staring at me, and not my dressing. I sigh, looking to the floor... looking to my eyepatch resting on the nightstand.

"Sebastain, what if the killer is Undertaker himself?"

"Then I do trust that you shall catch and slay him... though it would be a fatal loss of a connection, wouldn't it?"

I nod, thinking back to our visit. I've always wondered why he liked Sebastian's true form so much. The stillness and quiet in the air is tense, suddenly. I feel as though Sebastian knows what I am thinking. I open my mouth to speak, but am cut off by his words.

"Does my true from frighten you, my lord?"

He interrupts me, as I was about to ask him if his true form was, perhaps, a weakness. Coincidence? Perhaps.

"Whatever does that entail, demon?" 

I sit back on the pillows of the bed, my posture casual. He is silent for a few moments, and I know that we must both be holding our tongues. The silence between dialogue feels like it is carrying the weight of a thousand sinners. It is wretched and heavy, filling my mind with white noise and static. And I must be gazing at him longingly, for he emotes something indecipherable to me. Yet I do know fur sure that I long for him in a way that is wretched, and wrong. I am what I am. I know that I am sinful and ruined... debauched. I am what I have always been, I suppose. His gaze lingers on mine like partners dancing in a waltz, and I command my eyes to stay still, and to not quiver in their sockets. I beg myself not to melt into his stare... into him. Though I am drawn to him... always drawn to him. His voice becomes a low, ominous whisper... and what he says nearly shatters me.

"Have you lost sight of what I truly am?"

The statement is so heavy... full of regret, revenge, irony, remorse, sadness... love... mischief. My breath catches in my throat, holding my lips in an iron grip. I want to scream and yell at him, at the world and all of its inhabitants. And yet I still find myself wanting him... and now I want to collapse into the grassy earth that is right below my bedroom window. I want to drown beautifully in a frozen river. I want him to let me disappear. Though that is how my mind treats me most of the time. So I am used to it. I bite my tongue. I bite it clean in half and simply reply. 

"No."

For I shall never forgot. I shall never be allowed to forget it in the slightest. For I am destined to perish. I am destined to be a simple blip in his existence, a meal that will subside only a sliver of his hunger; of hell's hunger its self.

And suddenly, he is sitting on the edge of my bed, leaning closer. And I am sitting up, too... reaching my hand gingerly up to his torso and neck.

He finds my soul pure, I do suppose. Though I cannot understand this strange craving. As far as I am concerned to discuss, I am anything but pure; rather a debauched, sinful creature full of the things that have been done to me... and full of the things I have done, as well. My only guess is that tainting this phantom innocence, and turning something that is gold at its core into black, rusting metal is somehow unjustly tempting. He finds destruction enticing... exciting and worth craving over. He gives himself just a taste of this, sampling the skin behind my right ear. I close my eyes, clutching onto the crisp white of his shirt. 

That is how it is. I cling to him. I cling to every nip he leaves as he trails his tongue down my neck and over my collarbone. I wind my fingers in his hair in loops I wish to never unravel. I bare my neck again. But this time, he gives me no snide remark... no smirk or chuckle of amused impishness. No, instead he seems to attack the skin with a type of fervor, graciously accepting the offering given to him. I lean my head back, and sigh. 

But his kisses still feel like he is pressing a loaded gun to my neck, and I gather that this feeling must be generated from me, and not him. For only I would equate love to violence. Only I wouldn't let myself be swept away in the torrent of thought that must accompany most while there is a demon attached to your skin, pulsing all around you. I wrap myself into him, pulling him closer, closer... closer. 

His chest is pressed against mine and his hands begin to search for more of my skin, squeezing at my waist and hips, kneading me like dough in his beautiful hands. He lays me down, pressing his lips to mine and surrounding me. I whimper out a debauched form of his name.

"Michaelis."

For he must know that I shall never forget his title. His real title. Not the name I gave him upon the moment he was enslaved to me. It is an act of respect, I suppose... perhaps even foolish kinship between the two of us; though I suppose having your butler's lips pressing against your skin as he whispers the shadow of a word in your ear shall always be more foolish. 

I shift so that I am straddling him, now... and lean down to press kisses of my own across his trachea. A low, almost animalistic groan escapes his lips as his arms snake around me. Or perhaps it was a growl, for within another instant he is back to laying nearly on top of me. And I am finally surrounded by him, though it is a suffocating kind of feeling that I know I will never be able to shake away. And I grow all the more confused, because though I must know for sure this demon does not love me, he must know for sure that he is behaving oddly, now.

I decide that I will not say a word this time around; I will not order him to stop or to not stop, for that matter. Yet, somehow he does... just before the point of no return. He hovers over me, his shirt halfway unbuttoned. His lips place a small, delicate kiss upon my forehead as he strokes my hair... and then he gets up at leaves. He leaves me here more puzzled than ever... though I am in a strange place of ease. I suppose it was respectful... though I do not know whether it was out of duty or care. I suppose I shall never know with him. He leaves me here with my nightshirt a wrinkled mess upon me as I stare at the ceiling... until I drift to sleep. 

My dreams evade me upon this night.

He leaves me here more puzzled than ever... I bite my tongue.

I bite my tongue.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I fall asleep.
> 
> I do not want him to go... he holds me tighter.
> 
> He holds me tighter.

{ Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." }  
\- Edgar Allen Poe

〰〰〰〰

Eight days later, as the sun crested beyond the distant, misty mountains, I felt at peace that the day had ended. But now, as I sit facing the wallpaper of the lonely dining room, I long for the said sun that had set those hours ago. The pattern of this wallpaper seems unnervingly busy to me, and I finally have to tear my eyes away from it. There is so much bothering me... so much muddled information swimming inside of my head, I fear that the recent murders shouldn't possibly be solved by me. Of course, the Yard is my competition. 

I sometimes wish for time to stop, or for the sky to open up and swallow me whole; leaving not a memory in my wake. I must dig up the bones, but leave the soul alone, I presume... a nearly impossible task. Of course, with me being paired with the incomparable Phantomhive butler, we have gathered two suspects; the former third being ruled out yesterday. She was a scullery maid... one whom had led us to believe that she was not human. The only two left are a "man" called by the name John Brown (the queen's butler himself), and one Grell Sutcliffe. 

Mr. Brown has been suspected only because of his minute ability to seemingly appear in multiple locations at once. One account of this had occurred the night of the Queen's recent birthday banquet, when many had been thought to have seen him escorting Victoria in the ballroom as well as circling the gardens and attending to the flowers. Or, at least, that's what Sebastian told me. Many incidences akin to this have happened in the past, so I have no reason not to believe him when he tells me this... for John surely is not human to begin with. Now, Mr. Sutcliffe is an entirely different story. His intense (blood) lust for my butler is not at all deniable, as he has attempted to murder Sebastian on numerous occasions. This fact, along with his reckless behavioral patterns, make him a prime suspect. Of course, it is still possible that these two are working together. 

So, here I sit; contemplating everything as supper cooks in the kitchen beside me. The swinging double-doors open and out strides the puzzling servant of mine. I sigh, shifting and sitting up straighter. He sets a plate of thinly sliced pork, potatoes and broccoli in front of me.

"Here we have the most tender pork I could find, sir... accompanied with potatoes cooked in an onion, garlic and thyme sauce along with steamed and buttered broccoli."

He recites, and I know it must be tiring to do so... especially when I will barely touch it before retiring to be bathed and dressed for bed. For my appetite is never fully comprehendible to me... with sadness lurking in every corner and recess of my mind.

But, you see, I need sadness... for it is the only thing I feel anymore. I need desperation and corruption, for it is all my parents left me... all I have left to cling to. This sadness, anger and heartlessness are my legacy, now. I feel as though Sebastian knows this... can sense it... perhaps, even, feeds off of it... for his aura is so elusive. He stares at me, his ghostly red eyes almost glowing... reflecting off of his lashes and spreading across his cheeks with a foul sort of air, though endearing as ever. I grumble a response to his presentation, tearing my own eyes away as my heart and hands begin to flutter with frustration.

I eat in silence as he stands dutifully by my side with the gold plated platter sitting snugly under his left arm. As predicted, I don't finish, but instead push it away. He brings me a slice of chocolate cake and I eat most of it, knowing that it is a rare treat. Before I stand, I signal him to escort me upstairs. Every step I take sounds like a requiem to my unavoidable demise... my unavoidable abyss I settle into once white sheets and pillowcases are snugly wrapped around my dreams as I slip in and out of consciousness.

I suppose insomnia is reasonable enough for me; a warning to my mind not to allow me to become paralyzed by my subconsciousness. Though, I do long for sleep's peaceful embrace... at least I do until I remind myself that sleep hasn't been peaceful since it's initial interruption six years ago.

"Run me a bath."

He nods as we enter my suite, and I make my way over to sit at the edge of my bed solemnly... awaiting his next move. I do not feel as though I am playing the master, anymore.

I hear the water starting to run in the distant recesses of my mind. I entwine my fingers in to knots in my lap and my starched collar digs into my neck and shoulders as I try to untie the knot on my eyepatch. Sebastian returns to undress me, lifting my fragile body off the bed. My skin feels like an open wound wherever he touches me; oversensitive and vulnerable. Yet I know he will not do anything to harm me as I am carried into the bathroom and briefly set on the floor where I stand. He turns the water off, checking the temperature before reaching for me again. I shake my head, refusing him as I step into the warn water myself. For a moment, I wonder if I should not trust him the way I do, and if he has, perhaps, spilled a gallon of bleach or arsenic into the water along with the fragrances and soaps. But I still enter it willingly... just as I always do.

I sink down into the ivory tub, my entire body almost covered with the water. Sebastian removes his tailcoat and gloves, rolling his sleeves up and exposing our contracted mark that is almost glowing ominously in the light of the room. I stare at the tiles adorning the wall in front of me. The little diamond-shaped things seeming to move as soon as you tear your gaze away from the blue and white. They're like a much smaller, blue version of the black and white checkered floor beneath us... the floor Sebastian is kneeling on.

His hands swoop across my chest and back... running through my hair and making sure no soap gets into my eyes. 

"Lean back."

I do, letting him rinse the shampoo from my hair and shoulders. And it all seems so relaxing to both of us, as if in this moment neither of us have to think bout anything except the way that his hands are so soft against my skin... because it is all too acceptable for him to touch me like this now. I hope he does not notice the way I slightly lean into his touch.

And then, it's as if a spell lifts from a both. He pulls the plug of the bath, and it seems as though he is also pulling the plug of the atmosphere... for suddenly I am very cold. But he lift me up again, wrapping a towel around my drying body and carries me to my bed. He dresses me, the white, unstarched muslin fabric draping across my shoulders and legs comfortingly. I sigh.

I do not want him to go. I want to simply reach out and pull him to me... though there is absolutely nothing simple about that desire. But I imagine how wonderful it would be if, perhaps, we could travel to a far away world where he is not a demon... where he is not butler and I am not a sad, small child in seek of affection. I imagine this world where everything is so, so simple... and it could be perfectly clear to me that he loves me the way I am sure I love him. Yes... the water runs blue over a cliff made of everyone whom I have done wrong... and they forgive me. The wind here is not filled with voices and echoes from the past, and the insect's wings are made of pure, crystalline, salt. I realize this place I am imagining must be heaven, and I remind myself that I am not destined there, but rather to that place behind Sebastian's eyes where everything is full of the fire he has set and he finally has enveloped me... finally suffocated me... snuffed me out. To me, heaven does not exist, and neither does the possibility that I can "simply" reach out to him.

I lay back, turning to my side and not facing him as he pulls the covers over my nearly trembling figure. He must feel me shaking. he must know how much I want him... and oh, how I want him. I want him to hold me while I fall asleep... and I tell myself that I will indulge only if tonight is the rare occasion when he offers to stay with me.... to lay with me as i fall asleep, for he knows that I crave him; his arms around me.

"Would you like me to stay with you, then?"

I nearly laugh at that, though I nod my head in gratitude. It eludes me how he reads my every move so easily... how he seems to know what I am thinking, feeling, wanting, knowing... how he seems to know everything and use it to bend me to his will, or to simply know. I do not know anything about the compounds of where his mind takes him, though... and so I simply let him lead me.

He slips down beside me, not bothering to attain the attire he removed in the bathroom beforehand. He wraps his arm around me, pulling me to him. I try resist the urge to melt... to sink into him. But I do. I move closer. Happenings such as this are never, ever discussed, and I am thankful for this as I shamelessly turn to nuzzle his neck, wrapping my arms around him, as well. The world seems to stop. He holds me tighter.

And I fall asleep.

I do not want him to go... he holds me tighter.

He holds me tighter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will snuff them out.
> 
> I sit up straighter... checkmate.
> 
> Checkmate.

{ My necklace is a rope, I tie it and untie. And the people talk to me, but nothing ever hits home. People talk to me and all their voices just burn holes. }  
\- Lorde

〰〰〰〰

"You must be humoring me, Sebastian. There's no way-"

"I assure you, my lord. I am all too serious."

The paper in my hands bears all of Sebastian's recent research regarding the investigation. We had been certain that Grell Sutcliffe had been, indeed, ruled out of the suspect list, leaving only john Brown as our criminal. The reason for this had been that Grell had supposedly been in the reapers' realm jail during the times of the murders on charges of reaping souls whom had not been slated for death; a common "mistake" of his. But now... oh, how the tables have turned.

You see, These two "men" had both been murdering out of line... at the same time... but with no connection to each other; at least when the murders had begun. Once these killings turned into mass-homocides, the two found out each other, and subsequently started working together, for Grell had never been housed in jail in the first place. How Sebastian managed to find this out within three nights, completely surpasses my understanding.

I laugh, setting the paper down on my desk gently, my gaze still peering at the flawless handwriting even after my fingers leave the parchment.

"Well, then... I suppose we must tread lightly."

"Yes, of course. What is our next move, sir?"

"I'm going to snuff these two out."

I begin to pace the length of the room, my finger pressed gently against my lower lip.

"It is my duty to bring peace to the queen, after all. Though it is necessary to treat London's empire as carefully as a newborn babe. I swear, the delicacy of the wealthy-man is immeasurable."

I stop my mindless walking, shaking my head. I turn to Sebastian.

"The morn is still young. Call the Yard... Abberline. Let him know everything. Request a meeting as soon as possible. If he cannot today, then tomorrow. Understood?"

"Yes, my lord."

He replies, kneeling low to the ground, his hand pressed to where his heart should be.

"Let me know when you've finished."

I say right before his footsteps abandon the carpeted floors of my study, not turning to face him. 

"Of course."

And I know we both feel the shock in the air.

〰〰〰〰

Three hours later, there comes a rapping on the manor door. Sebastian tends to it, letting in the detective Abberline, whose meeting was scheduled five minutes ago.

"Tardiness is terribly unprofessional, Abberline.'

I say as I walk up to greet him.

"O-Of course, sir. I deeply apologize."

I turn away, smirking to myself.

We sit in the living room, facing one another over a game of chess. I have just finished filling him in on who the suspects are, and why, and what the evidence is. I have already demolished the detective of half of his game pieces, a sea of white sitting by the side of the board.

"A red hair was found on the dress of the victim, you said?"

"Yes, my butler spoke with the undertaker earlier today."

"But how are you certain of Mr. Brown's suspiciousness?"

"You see, there is one minor detail that was overlooked many times over before it was found."

I take another bishop from him, setting it beside the array of other bishops and knights.

"The crest of the royal family. It had been burned on the inside of each of his victim's clothing. This was found upon further, less necessary inspection, of course."

I do not add the fact that John is a shapeshifter, or that Grell is a reaper... or that these two paired together makes for one nasty criminal.

"I see."

He mindlessly makes a move in the game before us. I immediately prove just how careless he is with his action.

"Now, Earl... do you have any idea how to deal with criminals as secretive as these two?"

He scratches his head, giving away just how puzzled he must be.

"Why, of course. I have quite the team on hand."

He nods, surveying the board before making the only move made possible for him; subsequently exposing his queen. he knows he has lost, sighs, and leans back. I take his queen.

"Checkmate."

He chuckles.

"You always beat me, don't you, Phantomhive?"

"I play to win. And we all know just how picky children are about their games."

"You're hardly a child, sir."

"How so?"

There is an uncomfortable silence wherein he seems to be searching for the right words to say; the right words to tell me just how debouched and ruined I am. How jaded, heartless and shamefully victorious I am in all my notorious mystery. Though he doesn't know just how fast my heart beats for the corrupt.

I suddenly feel just how scratchy the lace of my collar is... and just how childish my features must look to him. I sit up straighter. Though I am barely an adult at fifteen, I feel as though I have been treated this was my whole life; as if I am a wise old man who knows of all the wonders this world can offer. But, alas, I do not. I do not know just how deep the oceans are, or how tall the tallest tree can grow. I do not know how many stars there are in the sky. And I do not know how even the smallest creatures can live among such dreadful things as humans... how they build off of our advances and mistakes. How they stand on the shoulders of giants.

Sebastian finally enters the room, breaking up the unbearable silence with meaningless afternoon tea.

"Earl grey."

He says when I look at him pointedly. Then I nod. he pours the tea... sets it beside us.

"Very well. You may leave us be."

He exits the room. Abberline clears his throat, the asks,

"Where do we go from here?"

"I suppose we must first locate them. Mr. Brown surely isn't too hard to find. I suggest incarcerating them separately as to avoid any schemes or manipulations. My butler will handle Mr. Sutcliffe."

"Very good, sir. I shall see to it that the Yard makes this our first priority. We shall start right away."

He stands.

"Alright. Sebastian, see him out."

Sebastian enters, leading him away.

〰〰〰〰

The next morn, as dawn breaks over the horizon, I am nearly dressed and fed already. today is the day. The day I rid of at least one more awful creature from the earth. Sebastian is studied up on how he shall kill this creature... and at the moment my shoes hit the cobblestone, our plan sets in motion.

I will snuff them out.

I sit up straighter... checkmate.

Checkmate.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And he plunges it into Sebastian's chest.
> 
> How dare he risk leaving me... he gasps.
> 
> He gasps.

{ My fingers laced together, and I made a little prison... and I'm locking up everyone who ever laid a finger on me. }  
\- Lorde

〰〰〰〰

Sebastian's seduction never fails. And finding such a flamboyant fellow within such a mass of corruption like the back streets of London is never hard. Our plan is set for us to ride into London (never letting Finny catch on), then silently walk deep in to the bowels of the city. Sebastian, as he put it, will then 'stiff our suspect out' and subsequently 'lure' Grell to him in only the most professional manner... of course.

The carriage we're sitting in rocks back and forth... jolts here and there. But it's almost peaceful, in a way... for I know that our destination finally has a purpose; whether that purpose is meaningful to me, or not. There is a loaded gun tucked securely in my coat pocket, for reapers are the only supernatural beings who can be killed by such a thing... much like how they are also the only things whom can kill a demon. Not they they are particularly prone to letting teenage boys shoot them with a pistol. Sebastian sits across from me, his gaze unbelievably hot on my face and neck. And I hope upon hope that I am not flushed as red as a ripened tomato. I tell myself not to think about how much I want him... need him... crave him. But I know that whether or not I am blushing or not, he can tell indefinitely that I am thinking about him.

I sigh, trying to take my mind off how handsome Sebastian's features are. I gaze out of the small side window. I ask myself why I care so much about pleasing Victoria and the royal family. I haven't had a case in so long, I feel as though it is of no significance... as if nothing will ever matter again, unless there is either a loaded gun or Sebastian's soft, soft lips pressed against my neck. And perhaps he is the one holding the gun. I wouldn't be surprised or disappointed, after all. I got myself into this mess. I bestowed my life to a creature filled with all of the things I seek to destroy... and I wouldn't have it any other way. See... the thoughts I constantly have of him are unrelenting. The carriage stops.

"We're here, young master!"

I hear Finny call from the driver's seat. I wait for Sebastian to get out and offer me a hand before taking it and exiting as well. It takes a moment or two for my eyes to adjust to the daylight now flooding in around me, and in that moment of blindness I find myself wondering that, if, perhaps Sebastian knew of my temporary inability to see, if he would take the chance and end me right there. But maybe he would stand by to make sure nobody else would. I find it hard to tell with him.

"When should I be coming back for you, then?"

"Six o'clock, I should say."

"Very well, mister Sebastian!"

He rides off. I turn to Sebastian.

"I can already smell him. Allow me, my lord."

He lifts me up, swiftly carrying me away to a side street before jumping and taking us high upon the rooftops of London.

"He's quite close, now."

Sebastian mutters over the sound of wind clashing around our eardrums. The icy blasts feel like they come from the tooth of the saber himself, blinding me with his immeasurable fury.

"Ah... right below."

He spots the read-headed one quickly, nothing short of a small feat on his part. Mr. Sutcliffe is strolling calmly down an alleyway, his scythe of choice in hand... that is, until he looks up.

"Ah! Bassy! What fun to see you here... have you finally warmed up to me?"

He calls, smiling his disturbing smile.

"It's quite rude to refuse a lady, after all."

"You, I am afraid, are no lady... Grell Sutcliffe."

"Oh, how I love it when you talk sexy!"

We swoop down to land a few feet from his smirking face, and Sebastian's grip seems to tighten around me. The air grows thicker as the wind kicks up, sending a shiver down my spine and making me huddle closer to him. The gusts send Grell's hair in to a flurry of long, crimson tendrils; whipping around his face like a winter storm.

"I'm afraid there is no time for games. We're here on important business."

I pipe up. Sebastian steps closer to him, his aura quickly becoming dark and aggressive.

"Oh, really, now?"

The reaper replies, tapping the heel of his boot on the pavement.

I nod, wriggling out of Sebastian's firm hold on me.

"I know that you are, in fact, responsible for the recent murder cases around London. If you plead guilty now, Sebastian might just spare you... if not, I will not hesitate to have you taken care of immediately."

"Whoops! You caught me! You never cease to impress me, little one... though you know best out of anyone how I never give up that easily!"

He says, giggling,

"And of course... no duel with my Bassy can ever be taken as a threat."

He grins at Sebastian, now... his pearly, sharp teeth glowing in the cloudy autumn air.

"I'm afraid I shall have to ask you to stay out of this and seek shelter nearby whilst I exterminate this vermin, master."

Sebastian suggests, keeping his blood-lust filled eyes firmly tracked on Grell, just as a tiger would hunt it's prey. His animalistic nature hones in on his target and his entire being seems to glow with a hellfire as hot as any.

But before I can respond, or even take a step away from the two supernatural beings in front of me, I hear Grell's chainsaw rev up loudly and suddenly. And it feels like everything is speeding up, the adrenaline flooding my veins.

"How pathetic! How can such a talented demon as yourself allow such a useless creature to rule over you so indefinitely?"

"He hardly rules over me... don't you know? We are bound; body and soul.. for eternity. He is ultimately slave to me just as much as I am now to him. What's pathetic is you, I dare say; preying on the souls of those quoted useless creatures."

Sebastian retorts quickly, scowling... though his eyes are glowing ever fiercer... and his being is buzzing ever louder.

I feel suddenly like everything is out of my control... as if our bond might break if he only got angry enough. The little humanity he has in his eyes seems so fragile and ever weakening... and my instincts tell me to back away. Leave. Run. Now. But instead, I step even closer... wondering if I am deceived in the sense that Sebastian will protect me. But then he looks at me, and it seems like he is telling me there's something terribly off. His eyes are smoldering with something too complicated for me to fathom, and so I back away. I feel the electricity in the air cracking and growing... moving like ice.

And I do not know if he is telling me to hide because he doesn't want to taint his meal, or if he is protecting me. Though he surely has no heart. He is something inhuman and I struggle not to remind myself of this disturbing reality... for as soon as I do my world is warped into something brutal and disgraceful.

"Come and get it, Sebastian!"

Sings Grell, as he leaps high into the air, wielding his scythe. And the , he thrusts it towards me.

I barely have time to react as I mutter a surprised gasp. Sebastian quickly jumps in front of me, an anger I've almost never seen before boiling in his eyes... almost. He grunts slightly as he catches the blade between his hands. Suddenly, Grell drops the saw, pulling out two scissors. He laughs like a mad-man, almost jumping with joy as he rears at my demon. Sebastian lands a hit to his face and he stumbles backwards, spitting blood as his nose begins to bleed profusely. Then he smiles, and the crimson-colored life-force flooding his mouth runs over his teeth and tongue, turning his entire mouth a retched shade of red.

Sebastian scowls and makes a 'tsk' sound, throwing the blade he holds aside. 

"Filthy."

My back hits the damp brick of the building behind me. I take a deep breath, observing everything that's happening in front of me with the eye of an eagle. My ears pick up even slight trembling of feet right before they lunge at each other, Sebastian pushing Grell to the ground. Grell cries out; in pain or in pleasure, and his hands are held above his head... still holding he red-handled scissors in between his pale fingers. Sebastian takes the chance to expertly foul the reaper's stomach with another harsh blow. This time, though, the breathe is knocked right out of the redhead's lungs... and I hear this violent expelling of carbon dioxide as it rushes through the air like a river flowing through grass.

Then suddenly, he's on top of Sebastian. And they flip again. And again. It looks like they're dancing a sort of hellish waltz... limbs tangling on the ground like vines growing and splitting up a wall. 

"Sebastian."

I breathe out, noting how (almost) graceful they look; two creatures of corruption, essentially fighting to the death.

"Sebastian..."

And suddenly, Grell is on top, straddling my butler. Grell wields the shining, sinful steel-bladed scissors above his head as Sebastian grips his forearms, holding him back. Blood is dripping from his mouth, nearly dripping onto Sebastian's face. Sebastian quickly snatches one of the pairs of scissors... his strike fast, yet precise and languid like a snake. Grell has no time to fight him off, just as expected. Sebastian plunges the blade into the reaper's side, grunting and snarling as he does so. Grell gasps, almost a sigh of relief. Sebastian wrestles him to the ground, throwing the blade off to the side and it disappears to the right of them. But the wanton reaper keeps glancing to his left. And he keeps glancing. Keeps glancing. And I realize why; the scissors Sebastian discarded lay mere feet away from where he is now pinned... right next to the scythe.

And everything slows... seems to be moving through water as Grell hastily pushes Sebastian off of him, scrambling towards the weapons. His movements are desperate... adrenaline fueled and ugly. He grabs the scissors. How could Sebastian make such a careless mistake? How dare he risk leaving me? I've never seen anyone or anything overpower this servant of mine... never, ever have I seen him fail. Not once. And I think... what if this is the end?

"Sebastian!"

And now I'm screaming his name instead of whispering it... the urge to reach out to him is too strong as the disgusting reaper in front of me stabs the scissors into Sebastian's palms, pinning them into the pavement as he nearly gets away. He gasps. I do, too. And I start running... scrambling towards them in order to grasp the chainsaw before Grell can... but I'm too late. He revs the death-bringer up, the sound deafening. 

And he plunges it into Sebastian's chest.

How dare he risk leaving me... he gasps.

He gasps.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I bury us and our goodbye kiss.
> 
> Do not go gentle... I love you.
> 
> I love you.

{ Blood is rare, and sweet as cherry wine. }  
\- Hozier

〰〰〰〰

The scream I let out is filled will every singe emotion I've kept within me for years. My vision blurs and I begin to sob... my chest is burning like there's an entire forest on fire in my lungs. I gasp... unable to catch my breath as I sink to my knees several feet away from the two. I sink my nails into the crown of my head, trying to bring myself to look up... to go to him. I'm sure I am creating bloodied crescents where my nails are burying themselves into my scalp. But I just continue to scream... my inability to look up growing stronger with each breathe that evades me. I know that there is blood splattered all across the pavement, for it reached my feet and is soaking through my shoes.

I hear Grell's insane laughter right before I hear his body hit the floor. I look up, tears streaking my vision and rushing down my face as my expression contorts into something less than human as a great wave of grief sweeps me into oblivion. The wound in the reaper's side is gushing blood as well as his mouth and I feel sickened as he stares expectantly into the sky, dropping his now dead weapon to the ground.

A long, beautiful reel of images parade out of Sebastian's chest like hypnotized eels as they reach further and further into the sky. It's his cinematic record. I sob again, covering my mouth with my hand as I watch this phenomenon spill out of my butler for the second time in my life. But this time is different. It is not meaningless. It is sad and unfinished and disappointing, just as Grell wants it to be. It's full of debauchery and fulfilling to all of the reaper's sadistic needs. But the pictures bombarding my senses are filled with everything I loved about Sebastian. The way his hair falls over his eyes every time he bows to me... how his lips curl up into a smile whenever I order him to do my bidding. Every time he looked at me... every time we spoke or exchanged a glance or a flitting touch of the hand. Every moment we spent while I was wrapped in his embrace. Every moment he spent with me. Every moment.

And every time we kissed... every single time. Every time his lips moved with mine. Every time my delicate fingers curled around his shoulder... into his hair. Every time I was swept away into a reality that never was, and never will be. It hits me like a train, and the wind is completely knocked out of me as the images spin faster and faster... as they replay his life in circles; weaving them into something worth dying for. Weaving my life and word and world into something glorified and subsequently endearing and heartbreaking. And my heart is breaking. It is shattering further than I ever thought possible... sinking deeply into the mass of sadness I've kept at bay for an eternity. But everything is spilling out of me... out of him... all at once. And I can't breathe anymore. I can't think or even react as Grell mumbles something inhuman and the images spiral away all too soon. I pull my pistol from my coat. And I relish in the moment that I shoot him in the heart. Once... twice. Three times.

Everything is all too quiet. The gun I hold clanks against the pavement when I gratefully discard the devilish thing. I slowly drag myself over to where Sebastian is laying... barely breathing on the ground. His gaze slowly dances from the sky to my eyes. There is blood everywhere... everything is stained crimson... stained in and with sadness as the worlds between life and death intertwine and wrap together; catching me up in the feelings of it all. I feel like I am going to expel everything from my stomach. I feel like I am going to expel myself with it. I swallow hard, beginning to sob again as my gaze is torn away from his and onto his body. There is too much blood covering him and I cannot see anything anymore. I look back up to his beautiful face that is splattered red... then up to where his arms are splayed brazenly... pinned to the ground.

I sniff, trembling as I slowly reach up and pull the scissors out of his flesh. They make a horrid gushing sound and I nearly collapse... sobbing, gasping. I set them aside, my pale fingers now stained with blood as he is barely able to move his arms down back to his sides.

"Sebastian."

My voice is shaking. My heart is pounding through my chest.

"What have I done?"

I am barely able to see his expression through the tears falling from my eyelids and dripping onto him like rain. 

I'm confused... my mind is a blur. Do not go gentle... Do not go gentle. Do not go gentle, do not go gentle. Do not go gentle!

"What have I done? W-Why... don't go... do not go. Don't go... p-please. S-Sebastian... don't go!"

My voice is so small... so weak and meaningless as I desperately blink my tears away, now grasping his soiled shirt. I finally see his expression. I finally see his face clearly and my heart is violently ripped from my chest. His eyes are pinned to me, his hand shaking... trying to reach for me. His mouth his closed and he cannot lift his head. He looks desperate... his eyes glimmering. Glimmering with tears? It's near unreadable... both giving me no emotion yet telling me everything all at once. All of this is so sudden... so surreal and confusing. And it's too much. It's too much to bear.

Dig up the bones and leave the soul alone. Corruption stands with the soldiers who pour knives into the sewers. The dried up leaves of his essence whip around me like a tornado before being torn apart and scattered across the softened earth below my bedroom window. The constellations inside of me burst into supernovas made of glass and willow trees, and they branch off into the awareness that my existence is grotesque and deceitful in it's importance.

"You were supposed to protect me! You bastard! You cold, heartless demon! You weren't supposed to leave! You weren't supposed to leave me! You weren't supposed to leave me like this... not like this! No! Not like this!"

He was supposed to save me... to take my soul. To rip it from me. He was supposed to love me in the only way he knows how.

"God damn it!"

I hit him. I smack him hard. I sob. I scream his name. I lay my head on his shoulder, sobbing profusely. I feel his weakened arm attempt to wrap around me for the last time... but I still have no idea why he does this. He's torturing me and I still don't know anything about him, and now I fear- no... now I know... now I know I never will.

"I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I hate you, I hate you... I hate you!"

I scream into him... onto him. I pray that there are not tears running down his face like there are mine. I pray that this is what he wanted to hear. I pray. For the first time in years I pray for him not to be taken from me.

"God..."

But heaven cannot reach us here.

I feel him struggling... holding on. He is so, so strong and yet I feel him slipping away from me.

"No!"

I lift my head as his hand falls away from me. He is still staring at me with that pleading expression. And I am so, so sorry. For everything. For absolutely everything.

"No... Sebastian, please. I'm sorry! Tell me you'll be okay! Take my soul! Tell me you won't leave me!"

I cup his face in my bloodied hands. And they're shaking... trembling around his cheeks and face. And my mind begins to corrode away. I remember him. I start piecing together all our memories and I'm shaking... sobbing... gasping for air. Because the one thing he would have asked of me on the day he took my soul was that I please close my eyes. And now I breathe in the realization that I will be closing his, instead.

I'm quiet. I don't speak a word because I know if I do I will ruin him more. I let my eyes say what I really need to tell him; that I love him, that I need him, that my heart is breaking at each passing moment. And he tells me these secrets of his that I still will never know. He shakes his head slowly. I embrace him for the last time, my breath lingering by his ear.

"I love you."

I place a cold kiss on his jaw. I shudder and so does my breath. I move my lips up, my nose hovering just above his cheek. And everything stops. It all just simply and utterly stops. The world shivers and melts away. And we kiss. I do not kiss him, and he does not kiss me. We kiss each other. He caresses my soul with those lips of his. It warms my trembling, shaking, beaten body and the world shatters around us like ice. It feels like everything is aflame... but I pretend it's alright. I will never know if he loves, or loved me. Because he is a demon. And I am a sad, sad boy... and it feels as though that is all we will ever be. For through the terms of nature's laws we were never meant to be together in any way but this. His lips stop moving. And when I pull away... he's gone. He's gone. And his eyes are closed. I closed them with the heart and soul that I poured into him... that will be buried with him and in him. I bury us. And the tears keep flowing.

I bury us and our goodbye kiss.

Do not go gentle... I love you.

I love you.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is coming.
> 
> And maybe they are singing.. I lose myself.
> 
> I lose myself.

{ And when the king was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown. }  
\- Unknown

〰〰〰〰

His funeral was six days later. I did not attend. I could not. I could not bear it. 

'Dig up the bones and leave the soul alone.'

Is what I had said. But when no one was watching, I went back and said goodbye. It was ugly and rabid... as I had expected. I had no more composure than I did on the day in which I was clinging helplessly to his lifeless body... they day in which Finny had to drag my away from him when the cops arrived. And that is why I did not attend.

I have not come out of my room in days... not spoken a word nor uttered a sound except to Tanaka, whom holds the only un-soiled remnant of Sebastian we have left. I have held the head butler's pin tight in my sweaty hands for endless nights... kissing it... speaking softly to it. I've nearly gone mad with grief and the unfinished business I had with the dead demon I once held dear to me. 

One night, I crept silently across the moonlit carpeting of my chamber floor... snaking my way into the cool dark of my washroom. I did not light a candle nor lantern. I simply sat there on the tiled flooring, speaking to the pin as if it were Sebastian himself.

'I miss you.'

I cooed,

'I'm sorry.'

I didn't know why I was apologizing... perhaps it was for the spell I had put him under, or for the way my soul was tantalizing. For the way I tempted him... ordered him around just so he may get his next meal. He literally died for me... for my soul. And neither one of us got what we wanted. And everything was completely out of both of our control.

But it feels like he's the only thing that's ever mattered to me. And I've never felt this way before.. not even when my own parents died. I wonder why our bond was so strong. I wonder if it still is. And perhaps I didn't get the chance to grieve over my parents because I was immediately shoved into a spiraling of chaos and abuse. And maybe every emotion I've ever had is now being expelled because the only thing I had to bury them in was Sebastian.

I still have the gun and bullet I almost fired through my skull. Every night I contemplate doing it again... but then I remember how I felt... how Sebastian saved me... and I never want to feel that way again. And after seeing that man whom was witness to this as a dead corpse lying in front of me... under me... I don't want to know what's on the other side waiting for me. Because before at least there was sanity... feigned sanity. But at least it was there. At least there was consistency and promise in my demise. But now I fear that my punishment will be far more severe than anything I could imagine. I finally fear death. For the first time in my life I fear being crumpled into a mess of broken bones as I fall from an open window. I fear the blood pumping through my veins. I fear pain. I fear pleasure. I fear everything. I fear life and death... and I am simply, and utterly afraid of it all. 

And all I want is Sebastian to be back. Every night I have a dream in which he comes sweeping through my bedroom window. And hhe takes me into his arms... holds me as I cry and tells me it was all a dream. But just before our lips meet... just before he tells me he loves me back... I awake in a cold sweat. And now I fear sleep as well... perhaps even more than I did before. Yes... indefinitely more than I did before. Much, much more.

I'm caught between living and dying. I'm still being swept away in that torrent of two or more worlds mixing. And I am still unsure whether I want to forget him or join him. But yet I know I want neither. I just want him here. I want him back. I want him to come home. I want to wake up to the sound of his voice coaxing me out of a dreamless slumber. And though I know how he tormented me so... I now realize that he is the only thing that's ever kept me sane. And I wonder if I am in fact dead. I wonder if I am gone and now in the depths of hell... because that is how it truly feels to me.

〰〰〰〰

I look out at the sun setting behind the line of trees outside the living room window. It has been nearly two months since Sebastian Michaelis' death. The sky is grey with the clouds of late fall, the cold blanket spreading a misty haze over the ground. It looks as though it is about to snow. Every sound I hear suddenly drops from my eardrums as little droplets of rain begin to splatter across the window pane. Everything is so solemn... so still and beautiful. I look for the shape of a tall man in a tailcoat parading the perimeter of forest around the property. I know I will not find him there... among the trees and dewy grass. I will not see his expensive dress shoes shatter those grasses that look as though they are made of glass... made of silk and rain and snow. Of mist and stone and the tears that begin to cascade down my cheeks.

I always weep when it rains. Then, at least I don't cry alone. The lithe sprinklings of crystalline water bombarding the glass in front of me makes me realize how lonely I am; when the music and the voices stop and I am left here, thinking. I am left here thinking about all the times I went wrong... all the times I could've simply said 'I love you' and 'I know I shouldn't'. Then, at least I could let it all go. At least I could admit to something for once in my life.

The rain is pelting harder, now. My eyes are red and swollen with the moisture I've kept hidden for fifteen years of my life... all fifteen years. It may seem a weak number to some, but to me it's a number that seemed like the highest my age would ever climb. But perhaps I'll live to be seventy. Perhaps I will outlive the betrayals of life after all. Perhaps I will sink further into destruction. Perhaps the supernovas resting inside my bones and muscles will fade out into oblivion... and I will be left with nothing but an empty space where a heart should be beating; resting in my chest. Perhaps the love within me will atrophy.

I can both see and hear the wind pushing past everything outside. The clouds move further in and hide the sun. Thunder cracks. Lightning strikes a frozen lake somewhere in the distance. A baby is born. Somebody's Mother dies. A couple has just officiated their bond. Somewhere... someone is laughing. A child has just tasted ice cream for the first time, and there are endless people wrapped in endless embraces... being cradled by life's victories. 

And yet... here I sit. Alone and tired. Waiting for someone to tell me I'll be alright. Waiting for someone to hold me, too. But I suppose I am someone... I am somewhere, and maybe a someone somewhere is thinking these same thoughts as me; unaware of the pure sadness in the world around them. And maybe they are singing. Maybe they are singing a song. And maybe it isn't a requiem... maybe it isn't a sonnet nor a rhyme. Maybe it is the song one sings when they've finally found something worth living for. I grow saddened even further. I have forgotten the words to my song.

But the storm outside has not forgotten its song... and it rages on relentlessly. It sings its icy notes high into the branches of the oak and willow swaying on its breeze. And the rain turns to ice. It's a hailstorm... the kind of hailstorm that makes you want to cover your ears to mask the sound of near sheets of ice hitting you from every angle. But I simply close my eyes and listen closely... because I m trying to mask the sound of all the voices in my head. I sit back. I wait for a break in the wind. It doesn't come. I lose myself to the deafening wailing of wind that so accurately describes my mind at this moment. I lose myself. I lose all thought. I lose all thought... except for one.

Winter is coming.

And maybe they are singing.. I lose myself.

I lose myself.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their bodies are under me... it's getting colder.
> 
> It's getting colder.

{ Open hand or closed fist, oh it'd be fine. }  
\- Hozier

〰〰〰〰

"Poor master... you can tell he isn't doing well. It's almost like after Sebastian passed he just doesn't care for anything at all! I mean, he was an awfully sad boy before... but Sebastian made sure to take care of that, didn't he?"

Meyrin's scratchy, hushed voice filter's its way through the heavy wooden door to the kitchen. I am sitting on the other side, leaned against the wood. There are tears streaming down my face and neck... clouding my vision into little specks of starlight. But I am not even sobbing anymore. I simply do not have the strength. 

Meyrin is right, though. But it isn't that I don't care... it's just that nothing matters any longer. My spider thread... my only hope and salvation... the only thing that let me keep holding onto the hatred that made me whole was Sebastian. Yes, he was the only thing that mattered. And without him, all else is falling away into dust and decay. Everything I knew and know to be true is disappearing. I feel as though I am going mad... insane with the belief that I ruined myself for nothing.

But at the same time, I miss Sebastian. And I think I always will. Because it feels like this immeasurable sadness can never be forgotten in a lifetime. Anyone's lifetime. Not even an eternity can fix this longing settling in my stomach and chest... this utter destruction that I am... that I am becoming. Because the only thing to add reason to my chaos was to have chaos himself nipping at my neck and bowing at my feet... bowing like a dog. Like a hound... a fein. An immaculate being made of everything I once loved. Something debauched... beautifully so... that promised a bringing of light filtering through leaves made of spiders and snow. But things like that... like us... simply do not mix.

I start to shake. I try to stop the fidgeting of my hands but I can't. So I get up. I wipe my tears away with my expensive silk sleeve and pace the hallway for a bit, my mind in a state of chaos. My fingers twitch and shake... and so I start to lace my fingers together. I rub my thumb across the other but my digits just won't relax. I run them through my hair, pulling at the ends. I run upstairs, my feet echoing around the empty hallway... echoing around my skull and bouncing off of every thought I have.

I get to my room and step inside, shutting the door behind me. I sink down the back of the heavy wood, my knees refusing to hold me upright any longer. I stare out the foggy window pane, wishing that if only I could wipe away my sorrows onto that glass, then perhaps the clouds outside wouldn't look so sad... so lonely. And they do look lonely and sad. Perhaps even more so than I, for they have no choice in their demise of falling apart. I didn't either... at least until the only thing keeping the clouds in my life afloat went away.

And then those inescapable clouds begin falling from the sky. The rains of late fall are always frigid. They always start out light and dreary... then they begin to pour... to cascade down your window in torrents of cold, icy sheets of freezing water. It has yet to turn to snow, so far... though the air around everything is chilling... becoming inexplicably quiet; quiet because Sebastian isn't here. And I've been feeling as though something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong.

I haven't lost it in days... but now I cannot stop the tears from coming. I cannot stop the wracking sobs that fill my body and spill out of me like the fallen clouds will spill from ditches and washes once the rain stops. I haven't lost it in days, and yet, now I cannot stand how lonely the rain makes me feel... how quiet the world is without Sebastian. And so I do not even hide my face. I just lean my head against the door and let the sobs and cries come out; the silent screams and shaking hands... shaking body. And there's this feeling gathering in the pit of my stomach... and I don't even want to take the energy to harm myself anymore. I don't even care if I deserve this anymore... I just need it to end. And I do believe that this is the lowest a human can sink. I've sunk down into the tears, and now they are covering the top of my head... with a chain attached to my ankle. And I do not want to take the energy to save myself from drowning, either.

This is what grief is. This is what it looks like. And it seems as though it looks good on everyone else but me.

"God..."

I'm not even noticing what's around me anymore because all I can see is his face... his eyes. And all I want is that feeling in my stomach to go away, and to be replaced by Sebastian's hands instead.

"Michaelis..."

And so I slide down the side of the door. And I curl up in a little ball.

I should be ashamed... I should be so ashamed. And I suppose I am. But you see, I cannot even feel it anymore. I simply cannot feel it. Because I am feeling everything and nothing all at once. I want to disappear. 

"What have you done?"

The skies grow darker.

"What have I done?"

God... it hurts. It hurts so bad. I can't stand it... I want to scream. But for fear of someone hearing my desperation, I do not.

"It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Please... come back. Come back to me."

I'm rambling mindlessly. I know that he will not come back. He will not come back to me. Not ever. And the words escaping my mouth are as relevant as the buzzing of bees, or the fluttering of a firefly's wings. Because no sound reaches me here. Nothing is strong enough to penetrate the impenetrable haze that overwhelms me now. I know that Tanaka will be up shortly to bathe and dress me for bed, and so I reach a trembling hand up and lock the door. I do not want him finding me like this. I need awhile to regain my senses. And I cannot do that now.

Perhaps humans aren't as weak as I thought them to be. Perhaps it takes a special kind of creature to feel... to endure such sadness... such immense emotions. Perhaps demons are weak... for they do not feel remorse when they tear open flesh upon flesh. They do not feel love, nor pain, nor pleasure. So perhaps they are the ones in need of salvation. Perhaps my elders were right. And perhaps I need to think of Sebastian in this way in order to rationalize everything... in order to understand. Perhaps I need to think of him in this way in order to let go. But I cannot let go. I do not want to let go.

The coldness of the wooden floor seeps into me like cracks creeping across ice. The hardness beneath me is digging into every protruding bone in my body. And I cannot find comfort. The only place I've ever felt comforted was in my Mother's arms. Or in Sebastian's. But they're both gone, now. They're all gone. Everyone whom I've ever loved, whom has ever loved me has disappeared. Maybe I am the problem. Maybe I bring on such destruction and chaos that it burns everyone I touch and see; keeping in mind that looking and seeing are two very different things. I suppose I have never felt seen, have I? No. I have never felt seen in the slightest.

I slowly wipe the cooling tears from my cheeks, looking out into the still-pouring rain. I feel like I could be that rain. For that is how I feel inside. It looks like it is dancing across my chamber window, beckoning me to follow its every move. Of course... of course I will follow the rain. And so I get up slowly, and stumble over to the window. My feet creak against the wood in the humid air. I touch the glass, and the frigid surface reminds me of why I cannot follow the rain. I am too afraid. I am too much of a coward to follow the rain.

I climb up into my window seat and rest my head upon the glassy pane. The sounds of the rain patting against the clear surface calms my senses. I close my eyes. A flash of white bursts through my eyelids, and the great roar of thunder is soon to follow it. I sigh. Finally... something to drown out the thoughts and voices crawling... crowding... running through my head. Another flash. More thunder. This time louder... longer than before. My muscles relax very, very softly. And slowly, the feeling in my stomach fades away. And the urge to cry... the big, horrible lump in my throat disappears as well.

And then I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. My eyes open and I scurry across the floor unlock the door. I scamper back across to my seat by the window, and close my eyes again. Maybe if I close them tighter everything will go away. The footsteps stop.

"My apologies if I am disturbing you, young master. May I enter?"

All I want is for the voice that filters through to me to be Sebastian's. But it isn't. And it won't ever be again.

"Of course, Tanaka. You didn't have to ask."

My voice is too soft.

I open my eyes as he opens the door slowly, already beginning to take his pin off so that it can be placed on my nightstand... just close enough to quell my anxiousness... just in the place I like it every night: In the place where I can reach it easily when there isn't anyone around to hold me when I awake in terror from another nightmare.

"Dinner will be finished shortly, would you like to bathe before or after?"

He sets the small metal pin down upon the wood.

"Before."

Tanaka is akin to the Grandfather I never had. He treats me kindly and does well enough as a butler. But he doesn't seem like a servant to me. I used to call him 'Grandpa' when I was younger, but as we both aged the name quickly fell away... for my mouth was too occupied uttering Sebastian's name instead.

He nods, pushing his way into the washroom filled with secrets. I hear the faucet turning somewhere in the back of my mind. I pay no attention to that falling of water... instead I still listen to the pelting rain mere inches from my face; separated by a thick slab of glassy window pane. The falling clouds shatter against the glass and drip down it like someone falling asleep. I watch the shadows of raindrops dance and quiver upon the wooden floor. They look so peaceful... so meaningful. If only I wasn't so scared.

And so I turn my gaze back to the dampness of the menacing outside world, and wait for the night's soft blanket to envelop it.

〰〰〰〰

And then October came. And everything was dark. The trees lost everything they had, and so had I, wishing only for time to stop... to rewind. But the darkness that cascaded over every street lamp in sight told me otherwise. It told me that this was how things were meant to be. It told me that I wasn't meant to be happy. But it was alright, I suppose. For Hallow's Eve was coming quickly. And everything was painted red and black and wounded. 

The entire month has been clothed in an aura of horror; a thing of excitement for most my age. But all the talk of ghosts and goblins... of vampires and demons... makes me feel uneasy at best. It reminds me of how I threw my integrity, religion, and levity out the stained glass window of my drawing room wall. It reminds me of how disturbed the normalcy of my mind has become. And I hate it. 

It's getting colder. December is mere weeks away... and this time, I will not have Sebastian to comfort me when the cold winds stir every irreclaimable dusting of memories from the corners of my intractable mind. It's getting colder... and everything is speeding up... but slowing down in the most immaculate way possible. And I hate this, too.

The cemetery in which my parents are laid rests upon the very grounds they once owned; the grounds that were bestowed to me. It isn't far away, but as a child I avoided the venue at all costs. The idea of visiting their gravestone lilies was never an option in my mind until now. And now the idea is swimming and fuming in my head like a swarming of locusts. And now that Sebastian is there, too... I am not so sure that my life side their death can remain a secret any longer.

And that is why I have decided to visit today. It's perfectly gloomy outside, the onset of rain prominent in the atmosphere. I'm not sure I mind if it starts raining once I'm there... then at least whatever dormant tears there are will flow without guilt or malice. There's a pathway Tanaka built that runs from the backyard to that cemetery. I haven't been near it in years... not since their funeral in which I barely remember. The cobblestone feels foreign beneath my feet as the clicking of my small heeled shoes echo around the courtyard. 

The pathway winds and curves around a mess of bushes and tress; disappearing into the greenery that eventually conceals the tall, dark gravestones. My feet float along the stones framed by rippling grass, and duck my head slightly to avoid an offending branch as I enter the thick leafing ahead. I know I will find the small arching of deadened branches that conceals the graves, soon. And I do.

I enter the clearing, the walls and ceiling made of dead wood and vines arching into a dome above me. And in front, there lies the only three people I've ever cared for.

'Rachel Phantomhive  
Died at December 14th  
1885

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,  
The angels, whispering to one another,  
Can find, among their burning terms of love,  
None so devoted as that of "Mother"'

'Vincent Phantomhive  
Died at December 14th  
1885

From childhood's hour I have not been  
As others were-I have not seen  
As others saw-I could not bring  
My passions from a common spring.'

And next to the weathered surfaces of two almost seven year old graves, sits one mere weeks old.

'Sebastian Michaelis  
Died at August 26th   
1891

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting  
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;  
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,  
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;  
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor  
Shall be lifted-nevermore!'

With the excerpt from Poe's poem 'The Raven' carved deeply into the tomb of the demon, I stepped closer to the three leaden-hued stones sticking from the ground.

The grey clouds cast no shadows down into the arching of leaves around me as I kneel in front of the etched grey stones.

"Mother. Father."

I whisper, keeping my hands folded in my lap in a way that I hope they would approve of. I keep my eyes from the demon's grave as I say his name,

"Sebastian."

Their bodies are under me.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I'm sorry I let you down."

But the worlds I've been wishing to say to her stream from my lungs like silken threads.

"You believed in me... and I let you down."

My voice cracks and trembles as the tears begin falling again. 

I realize I don't remember how her arms felt around me. All I can feel when I try to recall it is how warm Sebastian's arms were instead. And he is what I am trying to forget. So I keep talking.

"I shouldn't have done what I did, I know that. But I was a child. A foolish one, at that. I was desperate, Mum... I needed someone. I needed you, and I didn't even have time to be sad about it. I know you're in a good place, aren't you? You are. I know you are."

I stroke the cool stone with my lithe fingertips.

"And you must know that I love you... don't you?"

I have to wipe my tears. I have to keep talking before I loose control and begin to sob. I have to say these things to her... to all of them in turn.

"I love you."

This is so hard to do. 

"Goodbye."

And I lay a kiss upon the hardness of the tomb.

"Father."

I clear my throat.

"I know you would've been proud of my ethics. Maybe you can see me... maybe you are proud. I know you are... if you can."

I look so much like my father... the texture of my hair and the sheen of color in my eyes now that the contract seal is gone. 

He haunts me.

"Father... oh, Father. I've done something terrible, haven't I?"

I do my best to hold back the sobs clawing at the back of my throat.

"I'm afraid I can never be the son you wanted."

I can't.

"You'll forgive me, won't you?"

I can't hold them back.

"Goodbye."

I begin sobbing hard... my entire body shaking and curling over until every bit of breath has escaped me and I gasp. And I sob again. They're long, painful contractions of muscle and raw emotion, and I can't seem to catch or hold my breath any longer.

I feel like I'm being watched; plagued with Sebastian's gaze... his essence. And I suppose this is far worse than him feasting upon me, for I cannot escape the guilt I feel. I cannot escape the evil he bestowed upon me. I cannot escape how much I loved and love him. But the thing that will never let my forget him is the confusion and lack of an answer or closure I received from those wine-colored eyes.

And now I can't even mourn my parents, because he's even here, too.

"God damn it!"

I scream, shaking and trebling into the earth.

"Why did it have to be this way?"

I don't want to address whatever spirit is left of Sebastian for fear I'll go insane. For fear that he'll never leave... even though I do not want him to. But we both are stuck. All because of a careless mistake. He wasn't supposed to die. I just hope he didn't because he wanted to. Because he's stuck without a life... and in a sense, so am I. I have fulfilled nothing. I will never fulfill anything, now. I am left with the gaping holes people have left me, and I cannot even see the bottom of most.

"It hurts. It hurts so bad, Momma... it hurts so, so bad."

I fall onto my side, squeezing my eyes shut. Its almost too much to bear and I wheeze and pant and clutch at the grass beneath my uncomfortable coat.

"I miss you. I miss all three of you... all three."

I always will.

I gasp out some contortions of the words as I run my fingers along every one of the stones etched with poems of the past... of lives that are over. Poor Mother, poor Father... poor Sebastian. Their lives were cut far too short. And for a creature like Sebastian to die so suddenly is nearly unheard of... nearly impossible. It's so rare that I wonder why it is always me that the most uncommon of unfortunate circumstances happens to. Why is it always this family... this house?

I punch the grass, tiny twigs snapping underneath my whitened knuckles. I remind myself that I was so close to being buried here as well... under the leaves and branches of trees that are as dead as the bodies sleeping under them. I was so, so close to burning. But instead, I caught the eternal flame of hatred... of guilt, shame, pleasure and love; emotions that should never mix together in such a small body as mine, for they all boiled over onto the grounds that were empty centuries ago.

"Will it be alright?"

I continue to whimper and sob, my breath catching in my reddened throat.

"Will I be alright?"

And then thunder begins to crack across the sky. Dry lightning pangs around the cloudiness. 

I'm not sure that I care.

Their bodies are under me... it's getting colder.

It's getting colder.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I miss him... let him go.
> 
> Let him go.

{ I was never insane... except upon occasions when my heart was touched. }  
\- Edgar Allan Poe

〰〰〰〰

"I Do not care whether or not the reason is valid!"

"Please, my lord. Think of your parents... think of the Phantomhive nobility."

Tanaka's sweet and calming voice seeps through the crevices in my mind, trying to make sense of every rampaging thought that destroys any rational barrier in my head. All remembrances of Lizzie being an important member of upper-class society is gone. Every inch of me loathes her existence. Because, perhaps... maybe if she weren't here, it wouldn't have been so awful of me to love Sebastian instead.

But he is long gone. And I must focus on convincing Tanaka of my reasoning... even if there is none.

"But I just cannot marry her, Tanaka! I know it is awful of me, but I simply do not love her."

His cool grey eyes are far steadier than mine as he stares through my penetrating voice. He's always been smarter than I am... and I know this well enough. He should be smarter, after all... he is far older and wiser than I ever thought I could be.

"What does love have to do with it?"

And the air around me stiffens and grows colder than the darkest parts of winter.

Though, he is right. And love has never had anything to do with it.

"It's high time you face your responsibilities, Ciel. Do forgive me if I am speaking out of turn... but you are nearly eighteen, now. And when those few weeks pass by and you have another year under your belt people will start expecting things from you."

I stare at him for a moment. Of course he is completely right. I've been waiting for this year to come and I have been saving my rational mind for another time; a time that has always seemed so far away. And now, the crushing reality is that the time has come. I am not a child any longer. My open window of time wherein I did not have to worry is narrowing by the moment and I marvel at how burdened I once thought I was. I knew nothing of the stresses of growing up.

"Besides, Elizabeth is a lovely young woman. I am quite certain she will make a wonderful mother one day."

I try not to flinch when he says this, but I think I must... because he turns away with the shake of his head.

It seems to me that every conversation I've had since that damned demon's death has been so utterly useless and mundane. Every word I've spoken to another seems so careless and devoid of any meaning. But, oh... the words I could speak to Sebastian could move mountains with their importance and strength. I could spend a mere second contemplating a phrase that I would have to think about for years, now. And I suppose perhaps it is just that children make far better poets than anyone else. Perhaps demons are the only close second. Perhaps even Poe himself was reclusive and morbid for a reason.

Elizabeth used to be so energetic and overwhelming... but ever since I changed... ever since I began to shut myself out of anything worth while in life she's becoming something reserved and bittersweet. Her presence can sweep you up into something so elaborate that you'd have to close your eyes in order to shield them from hers. And the only thing I can think when I do stare into those swimming pools of vision is that she knows... she must've known. She must've known everything. But I do not have the intention to ask her, nor will I ever. Because some curiosities are never meant to be spoken. Sometimes they are never meant to be heard.

〰〰〰〰

And then December 14th, 1894 came... and everything became blanketed in a snow that seems like it will never melt.

"Happy Birthday, Ciel."

"Thank you, Lizzie."

I say, ushering her inside the large dining hall. Everything is clothed in a golden glow that seems like it is beckoning you home. But this mansion is not a home. My home is broken down and decayed and denied any sort of penance. It simply does not exist anymore. I simply do not exist anymore. But my mind is a mess as I try to withstand the constant attacks upon my sanity. 

I am beginning a new chapter in the book of my life; but all of the pages are as blank as my eyes as I stare at the blurs of people around me. I should try to be happy, but the vines of revenge are sliding up my leg and winding through my hair. And I am being struck over and over with the realization that nothing will ever be the same again. 

'Let him go.'

I tell myself,

'Let him go.'

Elizabeth's pale fingers wrap around my arm. I can tell that within the bowels of her embrace she understands what it is like to love someone who will always love another... or one who simply cannot love. Perhaps we are a good fit, after all. Perhaps that is an awfully toxic way of thinking.

"Ciel, I need to talk to you."

"Alright, then."

She pulls me into the hallway adorned with wallpaper the color of crimson. Her eyes are deep in thought as she comprises the words that are about to flow from her opened lips.

"I know that you do not love me, Ciel. And I know that we are to be wed in a matter of weeks... but I need to ask of you one thing and one thing only. But before I do I need to clear the air."

She takes a deep, slow breath. It feels like she in inhaling all of the strength from the room.

"I do not want to marry someone whom does not love me as well, and only because I care for your happiness. But I do hope that we can be friends... and..."

I gaze into her eyes steadily, never wavering.

"my one request is that you do not resent me."

She lets out her breath, tightening her grip upon my arm.

"Elizabeth-"

My breath catches somewhere deep in my throat where all the remains of broken songs used to lay dormant. It's like the wind stops jangling the icy mistletoe and feathered wind chimes just to let me know that this is the moment wherein I choose to continue as an independent adult. It is scary to know that she is aware that I do not love her... and yet she still is willing to marry my broken soul. I would never be able to be that brave; I wasn't with Sebastian. 

"Lizzie."

I find my voice,

"Of course I will not resent. I do love you... just not in the way a true husband should love a wife. I hope that you can find a way to forgive me for that."

"Oh, Ciel... you will be the best, most noble husband you can be. I know this. For the true essence of a Phantomhive is to pour their undoubted pride and intent into whatever they do. That is how you've always been, my love... and that is how you shall remain."

She then embraces me as a mother would embrace her child. Her body is soft and warm and comforting; something unfit for the embrace of a husband and wife. Though I have a certain feeling that this particular relationship will be far from normal.

"Ciel."

"Yes?"

"Do you miss him?"

My arms tighten around her corseted waist.

"Do I miss who?"

"You know who."

Of course I know who.

Though what answer could be appropriate to such an interrogation? What answer could I possibly give that would not undoubtedly, and completely corrupt the very sanctity in which I try so hard to preserve?

"No."

And I do not lie. Though I do not completely elude to her, either. I miss him. But I miss him only in the way that the sun misses seeing the stars each morn. I miss him. But I am the sun. And although the stars are beautiful, the sun must rise each day to welcome life and provide for those who need him. I must provide for those who will never gaze into the eyes of every unknown galaxy... otherwise, I am afraid the world would go dark... and no life would ever be bred again.

When she pulls away, she knows that there is nothing more to be said. For she is the moon; the sun's great counterpart. She is the only thing that changes. She is the only thing that has been relevant in the night sky called my existence. And although the clouds in the daytime sky are beautiful, she knows that they will never touch her skin.

The stars will never touch my skin.

I miss him... let him go.

Let him go.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fin.

{ And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting on the Pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door. And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming. And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor. And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted - nevermore! }  
\- Edgar Allan Poe

〰〰〰〰

And then the snow melted. Spring came. And everything was painted golden. Today is the day when I shall officiate my marriage to Elizabeth Midford. Today is the day when I must say goodbye to the fantasies of the past and face a newer, harsher reality that has been weaving its way through the pines since the day I was born. I have never been so afraid.

I straighten my baby-blue bowtie. Elizabeth never truly gave up her knack for fashion and design... even made a career out of it; selling her paintings for thousands of dollars. The manor is thoroughly decorated in her beautiful artwork.

"Master, may I come in?"

A rapping is heard upon my chamber door.

"Yes. Do come in, Tanaka."

The old, wooden door creaks upon its weary hinges as the old man enters the room.

"My, my... you do look quite dashing, I should say."

"Why thank you."

I reply with a quaint little smile. This is not what I wanted. I should have been dead five years ago.

"You are needed at the alter, sir. The ceremony takes place in five minutes."

I nod politely, making my way through the empty hallway; the sound of my dress shoes ricocheting around the stone walls.

The church is huge; its archways rising high into a vast, circular ceiling. The isles are adorned with blue ribbons and bows, and the excited chatter of guests can be heard from outside the large, double doors to my right. I walk up to father Michael, and he turns to me expectantly, a smile plastered upon his lips.

"Ah! Earl Phantomhive! It's a big day, is it not?"

"Oh, yes. It is one we have been planning for months."

I smile warmly at him.

"Nervous, are we?"

I chuckle, becoming more uncomfortable as the time passes agonizingly slow.

"Just a tad bit, I suppose."

He smiles again, guiding me with his hands to where I must stand awaiting the bride... awaiting the bride I never wanted to marry.

"You may now open the doors for our lovely guests!"

He calls to Bard, whom opens the doors for the guests with his white-gloved hands. I sigh, spotting Finny through the dark hallway, rings in hand. I look out through the window as the guests are seated.

Then spot something rather peculiar: A streak of black beyond the cil. A mess of obsidian feathers and a beak of ebony. Glowing, red eyes that have every seeming of a creature from hell; a raven. And I must stifle the gasp that arises from my dry throat. My body becomes as stiff as a tree in winter and I simply cannot tear my eyes away from those wine-colored ones... those old, wise orbs that seem to have known me forever. 

"Perhaps you're a bit more nervous than you thought, eh?"

Father Michael chuckles... but it sounds as if he is speaking to me from the bottom of a dry well.

"Perhaps."

My voice sounds distant, wavering in my lungs.

No. This simply cannot be... can it?

"Don't worry. I was nervous too. But she'll make you happier than you've ever been before!"

He places his broad hand upon my back as he glides into his place behind the altar, his robes swooshing like a never-ending tide.

But I cannot tear my eyes away... not until the music starts. I barely register what he is saying and what is happening. I recite every vow as planned... as expected. But even when I utter the words

"I do."

I glance softly across the isles to see the bird still sitting... waiting. And when father Michael commands me,

"You may now kiss the bride!"

I lean in, pulling her to me, wrapping my arms around her... kissing her softly. But I still feel and see his eyes upon me. For I did not close my own. I did not feel anything at all other than his cold, piercing glare. And I wanted those lips to be his.

I smile at her when I pull away, praying that I did not falter. Though I feel as though everything within me has atrophied. I cannot escape. I cannot win. Darkness overpowers me. And I am afraid that it will consume her, too.

〰〰〰〰

The reception was lovely... and lonely. We danced until dawn. But the raven never left. The raven will never leave. And when we took our carriage home, I saw those wings flying away into the trees. But I still felt its gaze upon my neck. I will always feel that gaze upon my neck. I will always feel him, just beneath my skin. Even when I am eighty, and my children and grandchildren are crowded all around my deathbed I shall still not escape his touch. For I know exactly where I am going; where I have always been destined to go.

When we reached home, my once-finance was asleep upon my shoulder, and the sun was rising slowly over the horizon. I carried her to bed, and Tanaka helped me settle her upon the satin sheets. I smiled at her sleeping face. She deserved so much more than this. She deserved someone whom could love her completely. She deserved so much more than me... than this cursed family.

And when my gaze and body were drawn to the window, I saw everything that has ever been, and everything that ever will be. I saw my grief, my sorrow, my loneliness and hatred. I saw golden flecks of sunlight flooding the streets below, and I saw those streets decay and be built up again. And just beyond the trees, in a spot I've never once gazed upon before, I saw a flash of raven hair and crimson eyes; an apparition, perhaps. But then I saw those wings again. And I watched them fly until I could not see their darkness any longer. 

"I love you."

I whispered so that no one could hear me. And I was sad... and happy. 

"Do not go gentle." 

I did not go gentle. But I felt a single, hot tear roll its way down the side of my cheek. Though I was tired of crying... so I wiped it away.

And then I felt an ancient hand upon my shoulder, and I heard Tanaka's withering voice,

 

"Smile boy... it's sunrise."

 

And I did.

 

 

Do not go gentle... I love you.

I love you.

 

Fin.


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He went so, so gentle.

{ I will teach these lungs to air; fill this hungry heart with things to burn. The sea and tower were glowing to me. Guide my brother home. And I was as calm as a child. Take it to the river. Take it down slow. My, oh, my... don't you know my will is good. In the cold morning I heard them ring. Said, 'my, oh, my... don't you know my will is good.' Pretty horses and pale thoughts bubble over these lies; dissolve into me. Now they are all mine. My thirsty eyes will carry you all through night. Hush, now. You are all mine. Oh, I was as calm a child. Take it to the river. Take it down slow. My, oh, my... don't you know my will is good. In the cold morning I heard them ring. Said, 'my, oh, my... don't you know my will is good.' The night is young... I will not wait; the thickest thieves in second grace. I'm wide awake with bare hands. Tell your mother I'm coming home. The tide crept under my feet. The tide crept under my feet. }  
\- Cold Specks

〰〰〰〰

Ciel Phantomhive lived a long, long life... longer than most... longer than he thought he ought to. But his wife bared three, lovely children. And they all shared an uncanny resemblance to their parents. The mark upon his cursed eye faded long, long before his time was over. And he eventually pushed the memory of Sebastian into the farthest regions of his mind. Though it was forever and always there... eating away at him.

His anger and hatred seemed to have flown away upon wings of ebony... for his revenge was never carried through into the night. He made family his priority. He remembered how to smile again. But still, sometimes that smile would still falter... for one never truly forgets the person whom caused them so much. One never truly shakes away the memory of seeing that person die. One never truly releases the vice put upon their heart by them. 

It is sad. It is heart wrenching. But sometimes, you find the one whom your soul can rest with... you find whom feels both like home and adventure to you. And sometimes, it simply is not meant to be. And that is okay. Because in another life you will find them; over and over again, you will find them. And everything will shift into the place where it always should have been. And everything will be quiet and still. Everything will be alright. Everything will be alright.... quite, quite alright.

And Ciel was sure it would be. For even on his dying breath, when his children were grown and crowded gently around his deathbed like butterflies to flowers, he held their hands as tight as ever... and then he smiled. He smiled. And he prayed. Then he said goodbye... and finally rested his weary body and soul. For once you cease being afraid, fear its self has nothing to hold on to.

But he did. He had everything to hold on to. And upon that night, the sky was clear and every single star was kissing the window cil. But he never thought to look out that window. And perhaps it was, in fact, better that way. For if he had, he would've seen a raven clad in black. And he would've known what was waiting for him. We would have known what would always be there to bid him goodnight. He would've known that he was right all along. He would've known. He would've known everything. But he went away peacefully. He went away gently. He went so, so gentle. 

 

And everything was quiet.

He smiled... he went away gently.

He went so, so gentle.


End file.
